The Last Shot
by TinyDancer14
Summary: She could still smell the blood and hear the screams of horror six months later. Moving to a new state and town did nothing to suppress her fear of life itself. How can she forget? How can she move on? How will she ever be the same?
1. You Can't Forget

**Why hello there! Haven't been on here in a while. Here's a nice explanation for this story. I was working on the one-shot collection for 'Seven Wonders' which is coming right along and should be out in a few days or so, when I got this amazing idea for a story. It's going to be a really REALLY touchy subject if you didn't get that from the title or the description. It'll probably be pretty short, anywhere between six to eight chapters. I don't really know where I'm going with it at the moment, but I will figure it out. ;)**

**If you're confused now, I don't blame you. Feel free to ask any questions you may have through review or PM. I will answer them, I promise. But everything will be explained within the next chapters. **

**I own nothing. Thanks for picking "The Last Shot!"**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter One: You Can't Forget

Where do you go when you want to escape?

When the world just seems like it's too much to handle, where exactly is a safe haven? When you know that the one place that you're supposed to be protected at all hours is no longer a secure environment, how do explain the fear? How do you react? Are you thinking rationally or realistically? Are you preparing your last words or fighting for your life? Do you try to safe your friends, your family? Or do you just want to get yourself out of the situation while you have the chance?

What do you do when you know you're going to die?

Some people may sit and pray, silently saying goodbye to their parents and younger siblings they left behind. Others hide in a corner, silently crying but wishing someone, _anyone_, will stop this disaster from happening. Most try to find a flight pattern, a getaway, all the while hoping that the maniac responsible for this won't find them. Won't catch them in the act of saving their own life, because they know if they're caught, there's a very good chance that that precious life of theirs will be no longer.

Do you question your existence if you make it out alive but others don't?

And how can you go on in life, living in the same town, attending the same school, seeing the same people? The parents of the dead children who glumly acknowledge your presence, praising how lucky you are to be alive. Do you want it all to just stop? Do you pick up you belongings and flee the town, desperate for a new life? Of course you do. You think that if you leave town, leave the city, leave the state, it'll all return to normal. You'll settle down in a new town, a new city, a new state, and hopefully fail to remember that horrible atrocity never occurred. Only, you can't erase it from your mind. It's that nasty scar on you that will never leave. It'll haunt you until the day you perish.

Because no matter how hard you try to put it out of your mind, that really _did_ just happen.

And you can't forget.

* * *

"_No, no! Please!_"

"_Don't hurt me!_"

"_Run! Before he gets you too!_"

"_Ahh!_"

16-year-old Gabriella Montez awoke in a cold sweat, breathing heavily and eyes fearful. She glanced at the alarm clock beside her head and sighed, placing a hand over her furiously beating heart and sitting up in bed. She'd been having this nightmare for weeks now. Months, even. Even now, as it was six months later, she was still afraid of nearly everything that passed her. Even though she'd moved nearly one thousand miles away from the tragedy, it still haunted her wherever she went. It was something that she just couldn't escape.

Pulling on clothing and making her bed silently, she tried to put her mind on anything but that horrible day. March fifth would forever be embedded in her brain. And as her mother carefully drove her to school that day, she remembered that it had been just like this. A normal day where her mom would bring her to school, drive off to work and then come and pick her up at three o' clock. But March fifth had been anything but a normal day.

It had been a day from hell.

"You know," Maria Montez spoke to her daughter, pulling the car to stop in front of the school. "You don't have to do this today. I can turn around and we can go home. We'll come back when you feel ready."

But Gabriella sighed, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the car door. "I'll be fine."

"Call me if you want me to come get you." Maria ordered. "Because I will. I'll drop everything and come."

Shaking her head and hopping out of the SUV, Gabriella plastered on a fake smile. "I won't need to. Bye Mom."

The car door shut securely and Gabriella walked timidly onto the campus. Groups of people were swarming the front lawn and steps of East High School, her new academic retreat. A few people glanced at her, but no one really made her feel uncomfortable. She walked slowly, trying to take in the New Mexican school and its students. A few boys whistled at her and she sighed, not ready for _this_ kind of confrontation yet. As she neared the school steps, one of the boys called out to her.

"Hey, hot stuff! Come on over!"

She ignored him. His friend shouted, "Tommy, check out the babe!"

Gabriella froze in her place. _Tommy_. Suddenly all of the memories of that fateful day flooded back to her as the one proclaimed Tommy neared towards her. "Hey. I'm Tommy. You new here?"

"L-Leave me alone!" Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Don't hurt me! Please!"

Tommy only stared at her, an expression of confusion washing over his features. "I wasn't going to-"

"Don't do it! Don't do it!"

"Do what?"

"Is there a problem?" A new boy took the scene and glanced at Tommy, who backed away, arms raised in form of surrender. The blue-eyed boy glanced at Gabriella. "Hey. Are you okay?"

Gabriella smiled slightly, relaxing just a little. "You saved my life."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "I did what now?"

"Can't you see it?" She asked, pointing back at where Tommy was standing, a good twenty feet away. "He was going to kill me!"

"Are you okay?"

The question came again. Seven months ago, she could answer this freely. It hadn't happened to her back then. Her boyfriend and best friends were all still alive. Her favorite teacher and principal were still alive. _Everyone_ was still alive. And she was happy, still living her life in that small New Hampshire town. But now, months after it had come about, it wasn't so easy to answer that simple of a question anymore. Especially since it had so many different answers.

She summed them up into one.

"No," She confessed. "I'm never okay anymore."

And with that, she took off running.

* * *

Gabriella Montez had always felt safe in the library.

For some reason- and _no_, it had nothing to do with her academic stature- everything was just so peaceful and complacent in the library. East High's library was just as comfortable as the one back in New Hampshire. She found an abandoned couch in the back of the Young Adult section and sat down, feeling quite at home. She didn't want to come in contact with anyone here. She wanted to remain anonymous, nameless, faceless. That run-in with Tommy had been all too real. _Tommy_. She let out an involuntary shudder at the name. She couldn't control herself. It just happened. Feeling something hard behind her back, she reached into the cushions of the couch and produced a book.

_Give A Boy A Gun_ by Todd Strasser.

Shrieking with fear, she threw the book across the floor and faced the other direction. God, what was _wrong_ with her? She couldn't do anything these days without being reminded of that horrible day which ended in such a horrible night. She could still remember waking up in that dark hospital room to the smell of caked blood dried to sweat slick skin. There was a sharp, searing pain in her left arm and she couldn't move her head. Dizziness produced two images of her mother, sobbing in the chair beside her. Gabriella had been so confused. Oh, so confused.

"Mom, what happened?" She croaked, her voice sounding foreign even to her. Her eyes went in and out of focus and the whole moment just felt surreal.

"Oh honey..." Maria sobbed even harder. "Oh baby..."

"Mom..." Gabriella was struggling. "What happened to me? What's going on?"

Maria fought hard to control herself. "I'm sorry honey. I'm so sorry. Brian isn't... and Jess and Hailey... oh and Chris and Katie..."

Brian. Something had happened to her Brian. And did she really just name nearly all of her best friends. Gabriella coughed violently. "What happened to them?"

"They're... dead!"

Gabriella remembered vomiting at that very moment before blacking out completely. Her best friends. Katie with her long legs and beautiful model-like body. Hailey, her long blonde hair and bouncy personality that made everyone love her. Jess, the sporty athletic one of the group who had the best team spirit. Chris with his sweet, nice-guy personality and sensible charm that had the girls falling for him at his feet. But because he had such good morals, his eyes were only for Katie. And then there was Brian. Her Brian. Charming and charismatic, he cared for her and she doted on him right back. What was she going to do without all of them?

"Um, excuse me," A voice interrupted her thoughts. "Did you drop this?"

Gabriella snapped back to reality and came to recognize the boy with the striking blue eyes she'd talked to in the courtyard. She quickly shook head. "Um, no. But thank you."

"Alright." He dropped it atop a shelf of books and sat down beside her. "Mind if I sit here?"

Gabriella shook her head again. "No. That's fine."

"I'm Troy Bolton." He smiled, extending a hand towards her.

"Gabriella Montez." She shook his hand, his palm feeling warm in her own. "I just moved here from New Hampshire."

Where the sudden burst of confidence came from, she didn't know. But for some strange reason, Troy Bolton seemed like he'd be a great listener. And if she could befriend him, she was desperate for anyone to listen to her. She just needed to vent.

His eyes widened. "New Hampshire, huh? Terrible thing that happened last March in Plainfield, wasn't it?"

Gabriella's heart rate sped up. "You know about that?"

"Everyone knows about that." Troy corrected. "It was all over the news for months."

She took this news in and pondered it for a moment. Everyone knows. Maybe she wasn't alone in the world after all. Suddenly, there was a loud bang from the other side of the library. Gabriella screamed in horror and leapt behind the couch, crowing and hugging her knees to her chest, trembling in fear. It couldn't really be happening again. She _knew_ she shouldn't have gone to school today. Then, from the scene of the bang, there was laughter and Troy turned around to look at the shaken girl.

"Hey, it's okay. Someone just dropped their textbook. Those things are really loud." He soothed. "Are you often scared by loud noises?"

However, Gabriella ignored his question, continuing to quiver as she stood again. "I was there, Troy."

"You were where?"

"There. At Plainfield, last March." She confessed. "And now, I'm scared of everything."

Troy was shocked. She was _there_? During that horrible tragedy? Something told him he was the first she'd confided in since she'd been here. "Have you seen a psychologist?"

She nodded. "Once. She told me I have to try and forget it ever happened."

Troy was listening intently. Gabriella shook her head. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Because when something like that happens to you, it's impossible to forget. I still have nightmares, Troy. And it's now six months after the fact. Why would they tell me to forget?"

Troy shrugged. "I-I don't know. I really don't."

"When something this tragic and frightening happens to you, it's burned into the back of your mind like a brand on a cow." Gabriella explained in a bitter, icy cold tone. You want it to go away, but it won't. You wish it didn't happen, but it did. It's all there- the guilt, the pain, the fear. And no matter how hard you try, you can't forget."

* * *

_One Year Earlier_...

"What's with all the salt?" Gabriella giggled. "You're going to have a heart attack before you turn twenty!"

Brian McFarland stuck his tongue out at his girlfriend. "I like salt! Give me a break."

"I'll give you a break, but don't expect your heart to." She grinned, adding ketchup to her fries. "It's all in moderation, really."

"Ew, Gabriella." Hailey Valence sighed. "Ketchup makes me sick, you know that."

Gabriella rolled her eyes at her friend. "You just have a problem with everything red."

"That's not true." She defended herself. "I love tomatoes."

"Then how can you not like ketchup?" Jessica Collins asked with a laugh, reaching for the bottle herself. "It's _made_ from tomatoes."

Hailey blushed. "I just don't, okay?"

"Katie and Chris if you don't stop making out, I'm going to salt you next." Brian warned, aiming the salt shaker at his best friend and girlfriend. "Seriously. Like we need to see that while we try to eat."

Katie Mitchell pulled away from her boyfriend in annoyance. "I'm not hungry."

Chris Davis flipped Brian off before turning his attention back to Katie. "I'm hungry for you."

"Oh God, that was freaking cheesy." Jess pretended to gag while Gabriella and Hailey laughed uncontrollably.

"I feel so left out." Hailey complained as she glanced from Katie and Chris to Gabriella and Brian. "Why doesn't a guy want _me_?"

"Um, a guy does want you." Katie pointed out. "You broke up with him."

"Oh my God, please don't bring Tommy Pearson into this!" Hailey covered her face in humiliation. "He's the biggest freaking loser on the entire face of this Earth."

"You didn't think that when you were going out with him," Gabriella pointed out. "Besides, he _loves_ you. And I heard he fell into a state of depression after you dumped him."

"Not to mention every guy in the entire athletic department beats him up on a daily basis," Chris added. "Maybe we should help that kid. I feel kind of bad for him."

"No." Hailey stated vehemently. "We will _not_ save him from troubles he brought upon himself."

"Hail, it isn't his fault." Katie counteracted. "They're beating him up because they think he's a dork. Which, I guess he kind of is. But he's so smart and he's pretty nice. And he loves you, as Gabby has pointed out before us."

Gabriella grinned. "He does."

Brian nodded. "I'm agreeing with Kate. The kid's a genius. My computer gave me the blue screen of death and he re-wired it so I wouldn't have to buy a new one. I didn't even know you could do that."

Jess was taking a sip of her soda before her eyes widened. "Would you look who it is? Tommy's here!"

Hailey gasped. "He's here? We have to leave!"

But it was too late. Tommy Pearson walked over to the group, a smile on his face. "Hi guys. Hi Hailey."

"Why are you talking to me?" She said rudely, narrowing her eyes at him. "We broke up, remember?"

"I know that." His face fell. "But I just thought-"

"Yeah? Well you thought wrong." Hailey interrupted. The rest of the table was silent, not daring to look at Tommy. "You're a freaking loser and I hate you. I don't want to date you again so don't bother asking. And I will never, _ever_, love you. Ever. Do I make myself clear?"

Tommy didn't answer. He just turned his back on the table and pushed through the doors of the diner forcefully. Gabriella kicked her friend under the table. "Hailey! How the hell could you be so mean to him?"

"What?" She honestly could see no discrepancy in her actions. "He has a right to know."

"You could've been nicer to him about it." Katie scolded. "Don't be a bitch, Hail."

"Oh, I'm a bitch now because I turned down _Tommy Pearson_?" The blonde girl said his name as if it were a poison passing through her lips. "Whatever. You guys just don't understand."

"I would hate for someone to tell me that they hated me and would never love me." Gabriella admitted, pushing Hailey into her hole of self-pity even further.

Brian smiled, kissing her cheek. "Well you don't have to worry about that. Because I would _die_ for you."

Little did he know that his words would come back to haunt him...

* * *

**So there you go. A little background about Gabriella's friends and relationship. This will be MAJORLY important within the next couple of chapters, so don't think I just put it there for a chapter filler. Review and tell me if you liked it and would like to see more or if it was incredibly stupid and you want me to crawl into a hole and not come out for a while. ;)**


	2. Chosen Prey

**Well hello! Thanks for your feedback! I was really surprised at the reviews I got because I was expecting people to look this over, as it's not exactly your typical happy-go-lucky story. I haven't decided whether or not Troy and Gabriella will get together, but I just know that she's going to count on him _a lot_ throughout the story. She needs someone to talk to- wouldn't you?- after this situation, and feels Troy is a perfect match.**

**Thanks for the reviews! I own nothing and enjoy chapter two!**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter Two: Chosen Prey

What do you do when you know you're being followed?

When you sense there is a presence behind you, do you scream? Do you walk a little faster or do you run? How does it feel to know you're being staked out? To know that someone has been watching your every move? They've been following you and only now have become less obvious about it. They planned this. They _wanted_ you to hurt. So what do you do? Everyone's around but no one can help. They want to save themselves, so they can't save you. You're just second best to their selfishness, but did you really expect otherwise?

Have you ever been picked as one out of a group?

Maybe it was for sports. You played the best so you get to be the team. Or maybe it was in drama club. You sang the best, you had the best emotion, you would be perfect for the role so you get the lead. Or how about college? You had the best SAT score, you had the most extracurricular activities, you were the valedictorian, so you get into Stanford. But it isn't like that in this situation. No, this isn't a positive thing. It's not the way it works in this case.

In this case, you caused the most pain. So _you_ get to die.

He chooses his victims like a lion stalking an antelope. He watches them and observes their behavior. Someone thanks him for his help in the afternoon, so they are saved and free from harm. Another pushes him as he leans down to take a sip from the water fountain, causing him to cut his lip on the spout and bleed down the drain, so they are now on the hit list. He knows exactly where these people will be at any moment in the day and it won't be hard to find them. No, not hard at all.

So why were you one of the victims? You didn't do anything wrong.

You may not have caused the pain. You may not have punched him in the face, causing a nose bleed, or shoved him into a locker, grinning menacingly as you heard the smash of his glasses on the cold, hard metal. You may not have called him a rotten name, or tripped him in the hallway so his books would fly down the long corridor, or even humiliated him in front of everyone. No, you didn't do that. Everyone else did. And don't worry, they're being punished too. But you didn't do anything to stop it. And that's just as bad.

Everyone is fair game. But you're chosen prey.

* * *

"Are you new here?"

Gabriella Montez glanced up as the question was posed to her. "Um, yeah. Hi."

She met eyes just as brown as hers, but that was probably all she had in common with the beautiful blonde standing in front of her. She had long, curly hair- like Hailey's, Gabriella remembered, and a pang of sadness ripped through her heart. Her top was glittery and pink and her black pleather skirt was one of the shortest skirts she'd ever seen. She was wearing tall, black stilettos with gaudy rhinestone clips on them. She had a fake sort of air about her and Gabriella wasn't sure what she should make of her.

"Of course you are." The girl spoke maliciously again. "That's my seat you're in."

Normally Gabriella would stand and move, but this wasn't a typical girl, she could tell. She put on her best attitude. "It doesn't have your name on it."

The blonde girl was taken aback. "What did you say?"

"I said it doesn't have your name on it." Gabriella smiled. "Although you probably couldn't hear me. Your earrings most likely block out your hearing."

She reached up to her ears before grinning. "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name."

"Gabriella Montez," The brunette offered as the blonde slid into the seat next to her.

"I'm Sharpay Evans. Where did you come from? School started two weeks ago."

Gabriella bit her lip. "Yeah, I know. My mom got transferred from New Hampshire."

Okay, it wasn't totally true. But she didn't need to know.

"Sharpay, you're in my seat."

The girls looked up to see a tall African-American girl standing beside the blonde. Sharpay huffed. "Well that's not my fault. Gabriella's in mine."

Taylor groaned. "That's not my problem. Get out of my seat."

Sharpay complied, yanking a stool over to the lab table from another area as Taylor took her seat. The girl extended a hand towards Gabriella. "Hey. I'm Taylor McKessie. I'm sorry you met Sharpay before me."

Gabriella smiled. "Gabriella Montez. Nice to meet you."

"So word around school is," Sharpay began, rejoining the girl. "That we're getting a new student from that school in Plainfield. Whoever it is must be freaking messed up if they had to leave the school."

Gabriella stayed silent.

"I don't think so, Shar." Taylor shook her head. "They must be so traumatized. I'd want to leave too."

"I don't think I could live with myself if I left." Sharpay insisted. "Everyone would be like, 'Hey remember that girl that left because she couldn't handle it?' I don't wanna be the coward."

Gabriella was sweating now.

"What do you think, Gabriella? Do you think you could stay after something like _that_ happened?"

She gulped. "S-Something like what?"

Taylor's eyes widened. "You haven't heard?"

Shaking her head, Gabriella prayed their teacher would start class so she wouldn't have to relive it.

"Some kid in Plainfield-"

"Alright students, please take out your Chemistry Reference Tables. We're going to begin."

Gabriella let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Sharpay shrugged and Taylor turned her attention to the teacher. Why had everyone heard about this? New Hampshire and New Mexico were miles away from each other. Light-years, even. God, the media was a powerful tool. She wished Tommy Pearson had never been born. She wished Hailey had never gone out with him. But then again... was Hailey really the cause of what happened? Or was she just the straw that broke the camel's back?

She didn't know anymore. Everything was just so complicated.

* * *

_Three Weeks Before_...

Tommy Pearson hated his life.

On that horrible Wednesday afternoon, he had every intention of ending it. He'd found his father's hunting rifle in its locked case in the basement and broke the glass, stealing it for himself. He'd even taken the liberty of writing his own suicide note, not that his parents would read it or even care. His mother was a proven alcoholic, he knew, and his father was cheating on her. Neither of them knew of the other's behavior. Except Tommy. Tommy knew it all. This is why they wouldn't care if he was dead or not. They could go on with their lives as if he'd never existed and the world would be a better place without him in it.

He took a final look outside his bedroom window before lying on his bed and preparing to commit suicide. And then, he sat up. He was too good for this. He didn't need to commit suicide, at least not yet. If he wanted his parents to notice him, he'd have to do something big. Something that would last an impression. And his suicide would eventually be forgotten. Suddenly, a grim, frightening smile spread across his face. He devised the perfect plan to not only punish his parents, but the whole world of pain that he knew as high school.

Tommy grabbed a Sharpie marker and yanked out his school yearbook. He then flipped through the pages, circling names and faces, doubly circling others. _Emma Green. Nate Heathen. Principal Flynn. Hailey Valance. Jake Cummings. Bob Evanoff. Mrs. Somers._ Then he came to a dilemma. All of Hailey's friends... what to do with them? Hailey was most certainly on his list, yes, but what about the others? They'd never been particularly cruel to him before. Especially Gabriella Montez and Katie Mitchell, the two pictures he was looking at now. Brian and Chris? Jess?

Tommy paused a moment before circling them all.

* * *

"Tardy again, Miss Montez?" Mrs. McClain, the English teacher asked disapprovingly as she slid into her seat.

Gabriella lowered her head. "Yeah. Sorry. I still haven't memorized my schedule."

"Well maybe I can help you memorize it in detention." Mrs. McClain advised. "You've been here a week. That's certainly enough time to know where your classes are."

"Detention?" Troy exclaimed from beside her. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

Mrs. McClain narrowed her eyes at the boy. "No, I don't think so. She did the crime; she'll have to do the time. I punish each of my students fairly."

Troy just stared at her. "Yeah, but she's only been here a week. Give her a break."

"A break? Are you telling me I'm too strict with my students?"

"Kind of." He nodded confidently. "The school's huge. Give her some time."

"Would you like to join Miss Montez in detention, Mr. Bolton?" Mrs. McClain smiled wryly. "You can explain to me how I can better run my classroom."

Troy shrugged. "Sure. I'll be there."

As Mrs. McClain nodded and continued on with her class, Gabriella just looked at Troy in awe. Did he really just stick up for her like that? And he was going to spend his afternoon in a stuffy schoolroom with her? Brian probably wouldn't have done that. He would've said, 'Aw, detention? That sucks. Now you can't help me with our Bio homework.' Then Gabriella stopped herself. She hated doing this. Immediately after Brian died, all she thought about was how she'd miss his hugs, his kisses, the laughs shared and the time she spent with him. But now, nearly six and a half months later, she thought about all of his imperfections. The horrible way he treated his little sister, or the violent fights he'd get into with his older brother, or even the way she felt when he asked her for help- she felt like she was only there to do his homework for him. She felt used.

But then she felt guilty. Because she only wanted to see him as Brian, her perfect Brian. Nothing more, nothing less.

Troy glanced over at her. "What?"

"You're really going to stay with me today?" Gabriella asked, a hint of a smile evident on her face. "You don't have to do that."

"I wanted to." Troy smiled back. "She's kind of crazy. You'll need backup."

"Well thank you."

"It's no big deal. Really."

An hour later, they sat in the same room, Mrs. McClain traded for an overweight man who slept in front of them. They were the only two people in the room, as the druggie who'd also been in there before bailed twenty minutes ago. Gabriella was sitting in a chair, staring straight ahead while Troy chuckled beside her. "You can relax, you know."

"I've never gotten detention before."

"It's not a big deal. Mrs. McClain isn't coming back. Hell, she's already left the building." Troy explained. "Besides, this guy isn't even conscious and-"

"Shh," She warned. "We're not supposed to talk."

"Do you always follow the rules?"

Gabriella merely nodded, not looking his way.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Troy stood, taking her hand in his and walking them out of the room.

Gabriella was hesitant as they left the building. "Are you sure this is okay? We're supposed to be in detention and if we get caught-"

"By who?" He asked her, and she shrugged. "Seriously. It's after hours and no one's around. This school doesn't have the best security system known to man."

"I-It doesn't?" She asked in a panic. Her voice became fearful and her eyes darted across the campus.

"Whoa, no. Sorry, that's not what I meant." Troy placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You're okay here."

He wanted her to calm down? After what had happened to her, it took much more than a pithy expression to get her to relax. Although, much to her surprise, she felt her body soothe at his touch, relaxing as he calmed her. She smiled slowly, apologetically. How could she explain to everyone her behavior? That a frightful nature was just normal? She didn't trust anyone anymore- no, not after that horrible disaster. But Troy just seemed different. She felt she could confess the world to him and he'd never judge her actions.

"Yeah, yeah." She replied, shaking her head and continuing to walk. "I know. Sorry."

"No, it's fine." His voice was soft, comforting, as he led her towards his beaten up truck. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Um, sure. That would be great, if you don't mind."

Troy shook his head, opening the door for her. "It's not a problem."

The car ride was silent for a long time, the only noise being the hum of the motor and Gabriella's directions towards her house. After a while, she sighed and spoke. "He never gave any indication that he was going to do this."

Troy didn't have to ask who 'he' was. After talking with Gabriella for a week, he knew her outbursts were always about Tommy. "They never do, do they?"

Shaking her head, she went on. "The day before, he was totally normal. He was talking with his best friend and laughing. He went to all of his classes like everything was fine. He avoided Hailey, but he always did that. I think the one thing that truly threw me off was when I said hi to him in the hallway and he averted his gaze. He just looked away. He'd never done that before."

"He usually said hi back?"

Gabriella nodded. "Always. Even though he and Hailey didn't get along, Katie and Jess and I... we all tried to be nice to him anyway. Turn left here."

He did so and she continued. "He didn't even make a big entrance. He just walked into the school, looking normal, dressed normal, and acting normal. Then second period- that's the class he had with Hailey- everything just went haywire. He just snapped. And once he started, you couldn't stop him."

"Were you in that class with them?" Troy asked, pulling into her driveway as she instructed.

"No." She answered quietly. "I never got to say goodbye to Hailey. She was one of my best friends and I'd known her since second grade. We were having a sleepover that weekend, me and Hailey and Jess and Katie, and the last thing she said to me was, 'I can't wait until tomorrow. I have so much to tell you.' And she never got to. And I never got to say goodbye."

Troy didn't know how to broach the subject, but decided to ask. "Did you go to her funeral?"

But Gabriella didn't answer. It was too hard. "He didn't kill everyone. He stalked through the school, looking for the people he wanted. He planned it out ahead of time, like we were targets in an archery contest. I didn't even know who it was that was going crazy. I was with Brian and Jess in the computer lab when someone came in and said that some kid was shooting everyone. Jess and I were scared to death, but Brian was trying to keep us calm and safe. In the end, it only took him under."

Troy was waiting for her to burst into tears, for her to crumble in fear of reliving the past. But she didn't. She recited these moments like a perfectly memorized poem. Her tone was quiet and frightening but she didn't seem like she was going to lose face. Troy was in awe. Even _he_ would be crying right now if something like this happened to him. Gabriella amazed him. Her strength throughout this entire ordeal remained consistent and he commended her for that. Although, he did believe that at some point, she should really let her feelings lose, instead of bottling them up inside.

"He didn't kill himself, did he?" Troy asked, wanting to know if this sick bastard was still alive. "Did he take the easy way out?"

"No," She kept her eyes fixated on the car floor. "He's in the federal prison."

"He needs to be severely punished. They should torture him like the suffering he put you through."

She looked up, meeting his gaze, and he could see tears in her eyes. "I know he should. And I know this might be wrong, but sometimes, I wish he was dead."

Troy shook his head. "It's not wrong. After everything he did, not only to you but to the parents and people in your town, he _should_ be dead."

Gabriella nodded, grateful for some understanding. "He should be dead instead of those he selected as chosen prey."


	3. Calm Before the Storm

**Hey guys! I've been hard at work on the one-shot collection for "Seven Wonders" that I kind of forgot about this story for a second. But I'm back, no worries. Plus I've been bombarded with AP History homework (seriously, never take this class. It's hell) and prom details and college visits and SAT prep and then guess what I got in the mail yesterday? Information about my senior portrait that I have to get taken by May 14. Seriously, what is with all the stress?!?! It's a bit insane. But any junior or senior in high school knows exactly what I'm talking about right now, so at least I'm not alone.**

**=) I enjoyed reading your reviews, so thank you for them. And do enjoy this chapter, no?  
**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter Three: Calm Before the Storm

Do you ever wonder what happens when someone plans an attack?

Do you think it's a tense moment, like they're trying to plan it all out exactly and make sure nothing will go wrong? Or do you feel it's more of a 'come as you go' sort of thing? Like everything will fall into place and the attacker can just sit back and rest easy, knowing everything will go the way he wants it to. How can he possibly live with himself? How can he make these decisions? Why would he actually _want_ to cause destruction and pain?

Have you ever seen someone like this make such a destructive decision?

You would think that they would be nervous. Apprehensive that they could get caught, yet still knowing all the while that even if they do, _they_ are the powerful ones. You would think that they would be careful, wanting all the while to just preserve the moment and protect the innocent. There's no sense in destroying those who did nothing, is there? No, you want to target the ones who caused the hours upon hours of torture and pain. Those who knocked you to the ground, those who beat your face bloody, those who attacked you verbally and physically anytime they could get the chance.

Those who sat back and watched it all happen.

Now it's all planned out. The attacker has everything premeditated and is just waiting for the day to come. Now you think he'd be anxious, afraid that he'll blow his own cover and ruin something in part of his horrible plan. Maybe he'll be frightened; fearing that someone may point him out or call out his odd behaviors and he'll be forced to confess what is going to happen the very next day. You expect him to act like this. After all, how could he not? How could he plan the death of eight or nine people and not be a little bit nervous?

But he's not. He's just sitting there next to you in Math class, perfectly and completely tranquil.

So you take this as a good sign. Thank God he's not weird and unusual anymore! Thank God there isn't a reason for him to get beaten up! Thank God, thank God, thank _God_. He's finally acting like everyone else. Although it is a bit eerie. He's utterly quiet, which is completely unlike him. He doesn't talk to anyone. He averts his gazes. He doesn't wave back when say hello in the hallway. And even though you feel like this is abnormal, you shrug it off. He's fine, right? Totally fine.

Except he's not fine. This is just the calm before the storm.

* * *

"... so I was thinking at practice today we could run the shuttle run drill and the two-minute sprint..."

Troy Bolton hardly listened as his best friend and co-captain Chad Danforth rambled on about the basketball practice they would attend later that afternoon. Honestly, Troy felt like skipping. He wasn't really all that into basketball since this season had started and he'd been much more distracted when Gabriella Montez came into his life. She seemed so fearful and helpless, yet so strong and independent. He was honored that she'd confide in him her deepest fears and get everything off her chest like he knew she so desperately needed to.

"... Zeke said that we need to work on passing too, but we'll have to talk to Coach about that..."

Here was a girl that had lost it all- her home, her friends, her boyfriend- and yet, she could still talk about these things without even shedding a tear. Troy had to admit that that took strength, but it was also a bit peculiar. Whenever she wanted to talk about the incident in New Hampshire, a strange sense took over her body. She spoke in a fearful tone, but still showed no emotion. Troy truly felt for her. He wanted to erase her memory so it hadn't happened. He wanted to hold her close to him and take the pain away.

"... I don't think we should go through the lay-up drill again. It's getting so old..."

Was it weird that his heart lifted whenever he saw her? That, when they spoke, he was able to temporarily soak up the pain and suffering she endured? Troy truthfully enjoyed the time he spent with Gabriella. He was glad he'd befriended her and she had stated that he had become a best friend to her over the past month or so. There was something about her that set her aside from all the other girls at East High. She wasn't the typical blonde blue-eyed cheerleader that threw themselves at him to date. She was interested in actually getting to know him and being his friend. And for that, he was grateful.

"...man, are you even listening to me?"

Troy snapped out of his reverie. "No."

"Don't make me go through that again."

But Troy's thoughts were elsewhere, his eyes now coming to rest on the brunette just fifteen feet away at her own locker. He smiled. "No, you don't have to."

Chad followed his friend's line of vision and frowned. "The new girl? Really?"

"Yeah. What's wrong with her?" He asked defensively.

Shrugging, Chad slammed his locker closed. "She's freaking weird, man."

"She is not weird!" Troy defended again. "What makes you say that?"

"She got all freaked out by a minor explosion in Chem lab yesterday." Chad informed him. "Taylor said-"

"McKessie?" Troy exclaimed in shock. "Now she's the weird one. Look, she doesn't like you and she's not your type so get over her!"

Chad glared at his best friend. "This new girl gets all jumpy and nervous when you talk to her about school. She freaks out at loud noises. And every time someone says the name 'Tommy,' she starts trembling. I think she's got some kind of psychological issue."

_You don't even know the half of it_. "Wow Chad. Psychological is a big word for you." Troy responded, ignoring the second pointed glare he received. "Do whatever drills you want, I don't care. And Gabriella isn't weird."

He left his best friend behind and leaned against the locker beside Gabriella. "Hey. What's up?"

Her face brightened considerably upon seeing him. "Oh. Hey!"

"What are you doing later?"

"Um, homework probably." She bit her lip. "Oh and studying. I've got a Chemistry test on equilibrium tomorrow and that's really hard to understand so-"

"Great," Troy grinned mischievously. "You wanna come over?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I just said that I have a ton of stuff to do. Did you not hear me?"

But he waved it off, unimportant, insignificant. "Ah, come on. You can come for a little while, right? I'm skipping basketball today."

"You can do that?"

Troy shrugged. "I'm the captain. I'll do what I want."

Gabriella smiled. "I guess I can spare a few hours for you. What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know. I didn't think that far ahead. But we've got plenty of time to figure it out."

She nodded. "Okay."

* * *

_One Week Before..._

"Gabriella," Brian called out to her early that February morning, entering the library. "You've got to help me out."

Gabriella, sitting at a table for four in the school library with Hailey and Jess, turned to face her boyfriend. "What? What's wrong?"

"I didn't do my Bio homework, and Miss Matteson is grading it today." He plopped down in the chair beside her ungracefully and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. "Can I see yours?"

She got a sick, uneasy feeling in the bottom of her stomach again, the one she always got when he asked her things like this. "Um, I don't have it with me."

"Come on, Gabriella!" Brian pleaded, tugging at her homework folder. "I'm your boyfriend! You've got to help me out!"

"But Brian, you _always_ copy my homework. Don't you think you should do it yourself?" She bit her lip, twirling a bit of hair around her finger nervously. She couldn't give in _again_.

"Yeah, but you've never cared before!" He protested. "Babe, please?"

"I told you I don't have it."

Brian snatched her folder anyway. "Yes you do, it's right here! Thanks, you're the best! I'll have it back to you in a few minutes."

Gabriella sighed as she watched him head out of the library. Why couldn't she stand up to him like others could? "Do you guys think Brian is using me?"

Jess gave her a weird glance. "Using you? How so?"

"He always copies my homework or steals my study guides or asks for the answers to the test that I've already taken." She exhaled. "It's getting really annoying."

"No," Hailey shook her head. "If anything, it's a compliment. It means he thinks you're really smart."

But Gabriella disagreed. "No, he _knows_ I'm smart. That's the problem. He'll get kicked off the football team if his GPA falls below a C. So by dating me, he's getting good grades because he's cheating."

Jess bit her lip. "Never looked at it that way."

"Me either," Gabriella said. "Until now."

* * *

"Mom, I want to get rid of this."

Maria Montez stopped at the doorway of her daughter's bedroom and entered the room. Gabriella was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, a box of junk in front of her and odds and ends filled it to the brim. "Okay. What's in it?"

Gabriella shrugged, distracted. "Just a bunch of old things."

Maria hauled the box onto her daughter's bed and began to sift through the items. She was shocked at what she found. "You really want to get rid of this? Gabby, you can't!"

"Well I certainly can't keep it."

Her mother began examining the items. "A picture of you and Brian at the sophomore semi-formal last year. His practice football jersey. His cologne. All of these things you found in his room... Gabby, what is this?"

Gabriella remained silent.

"A whole photo album of you and the girls, presents from your friends, a video of your sixteenth birthday party. Gabriella Anne Montez, why are you getting rid of this?"

"Because I can't be reminded of them anymore, Mom!" Gabriella cried. "I can't do it! All I think about is them! I have a good time playing soccer in gym and all I can think about is Jess. She _loved_ soccer. She was the best at it and had impeccable agility. I talk with Sharpay Evans during Chemistry and all I can think about is how she's just like Hailey! Hailey loved gossiping and sharing secrets about who was dating who and which person wore the wrong thing to a party."

Maria was still as Gabriella continued. "I talk to Kelsi Nielson in art and all I can think about is Katie! Katie was just so sweet and nice and everyone loved her. She had this infectious smile and when she laughed, forget about it. If you were having a bad day, she'd cheer you up within an instant. And when I hang out with Troy Bolton, all I can think about is Chris! His love and affection for Katie is all I ever wanted. He was so devoted to her and everyone could tell that he was in love. He was one of my closest friends and I miss them all so much it _hurts_!"

"That's why I can't keep this stuff, Mom," Her voice lowered ten levels. "I don't want to be reminded that all of my best friends are underground."

"Oh Gabby," Maria sat beside her on the floor, wrapping her arms around her daughter in a hug. "Sweetheart, shouldn't Troy remind you of Brian? How in the world does he remind you of someone that wasn't your boyfriend?"

Gabriella sighed. "Because Brian didn't care about me the way Chris did and the way Troy obviously does. Brian was using me to improve his GPA."

Maria swallowed hard. "Gabriella, I have something to tell you. I've been keeping this from you ever since we left the hospital. Chris and Katie-"

"Aren't dead." Gabriella finished. "Yeah, I know."

Her mother's eyes widened. "You know? How could you know?"

"When I woke up that morning, you were gone and I had already forgotten what happened." Gabriella explained. "I asked the nurse what happened and she gave me the basic play-by-play. I asked her if any of my friends were alive and she said probably not. She told me that Hailey and Brian had died immediately and that Jess suffered for a long time before giving up the fight. Then she said that Chris was stable and Katie was on the fence. But they were still alive."

"Are you mad at me for keeping that from you?" She asked tentatively. "I just wanted to protect you."

But Gabriella shook her head. "No, I understand. Honestly, I didn't even remember that you told me they were dead."

"Oh."

"I wonder how they're doing," She spoke softly. "If they ever got out of that hospital."

"You could visit them, you know." Maria informed her. "Anytime you wanted."

Gabriella shook her head violently. "No I couldn't. There's no way. I couldn't do that."

"Gabby-"

"No!" She cried. "That would make it too real! It would be all too real..."

* * *

_The Day Before..._

"Hey! Tommy!" Brent Kessler, Tommy Pearson's best friend, called out to the boy, hurrying to catch up with him on his way out of the building. "Wait up!"

Tommy sighed and stopped walking, leaning against the doorframe. "Hey Brent."

"Dude, what's going on with you? You've been all scarily quiet today and un-Tommy like. Did one of the football jocks beat you up again?"

Tommy shook his head, not offering a reply. Brent sighed. "Well do you want to hang out tonight?"

Suddenly, Tommy Pearson turned to Brent Kessler, a serious yet pained expression on his face. Brent felt his eyes widen, knowing that what his best friend was about to say was important. He'd never seen Tommy act like this before. It was somewhat frightening and a bit eerie, as he knew he was about to be told was either strictly confidential or something illegal he was not to repeat to anyone else. He swallowed hard.

"Tommy, what's going on?"

"Brent, do me a favor."

"Anything, man."

"Don't come to school tomorrow."

Brent gave his friend a weird look. "Why not? What's going on?"

Tommy shook his head and repeated himself. "Don't come to school tomorrow."

Brent got a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Tommy, what is wrong with you? What is it?"

Tommy Pearson walked away, muttering, "The calm before the storm. The calm before the storm..."

His best friend was extremely perplexed. _What the hell did that mean?_

One thing was for sure: If Tommy didn't want him to come to school tomorrow, he sure as hell wasn't going to stick around to find out.


	4. Temporary Insanity

**This is freaking LONG. Long and scary and probably the hardest thing I've written so far. You get a lot of information in this chapter that's extremely important to the plot line. I wrote this chapter in like, three hours, lol. So if it sucks, that's why. I can't help it; I'm on an extreme dance high. We just got back from a competition and kicked some serious ass. Hahah. So anyway, thanks a lot a lot a LOT for all the reviews and I hope they keep on coming! Because believe me, they are absolutely appreciated. :)**

**I own nothing but the numerous trophies, medals, and ribbons we won this weekend. Great job TEAM!!  
**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter Four: Temporary Insanity

How do you describe the feeling of fear?

Is it physical? Do your hands shake, your body quiver, your heart palpitate beyond control? Is there a sick feeling in your stomach, like you badly want to vomit but are too afraid to move? Does your adrenaline speed up, the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, your breathing quicken? Or is it emotional? You cry, you gasp in shock, you hyperventilate. Or worse, you scream. Screaming is the first tell-tale sign of fear. It lets one know that someone is in danger. It tells them that they are scared.

And in this case, it tells him where you are.

You've given yourself away, now. He senses the fright in your shrill cry and sucks the energy out of it, building himself up. Your terror only helps him to know that he's causing pain. _He's_ making _you_ hurt, instead of the other way around. And you know what? That's _exactly_ what he wanted. He wanted to hurt you. He wanted to take everything away from you like you did him. He wanted you to feel the ache, the twinge, the sting that he's been forced to deal with on a daily basis.

He wanted to kill.

Why, though, do people kill?

Are they sacrificing long-term benefits for short-term gains? After all, murderers do not go unpunished. By why, do you think, do they feel the need to take innocent lives? Isn't it supposed to be a casual, potential threat? How many times a day do we use the term, 'I'm going to kill you!'? "You ruined my new shoes! I'm going to kill you!" "You failed me? I'm going to kill you!" "You wrecked my car? I'm going to _kill_ you?!" It's spoken and heard many, many times a day.

But who knew that he was _actually_ serious when he said it?

No one. Because everyone laughs it off when someone says it to them. You never think twice about what might happen if it wasn't a joke.

Do you think that there can be a justification for killing?

Many lawyers hired for the defense on a murder trial blame their client's actions on a "dissociative state" they entered when planning and executing their murders. This means that their minds, their clear sense of judgment, were completely separated from their actions, in a way that they had no idea what was happening. But does this excuse really make it all better? Blaming your foul play on an "out of body" experience? Whether you were sane or not doesn't matter now. You killed _all_ of them. No one did it for you.

But even then, they're going to blame it on temporary insanity. Because no one wants to believe that you killed on purpose.

* * *

_The Morning Before..._

Tommy Pearson sat alone in a dark kitchen that smelled of vodka and wax paper. He packed his lunch himself- again- but knew if the day went as planned, he wouldn't even need it. As he ate his breakfast- cereal, dry- he tried to ignore the empty beer cans and bottles of gin and rum that littered the counters, the table, the floor. The lock to the back door jiggled slightly, clicking as the door was freed and his father stepped inside. He was tip-toeing around, not wanting to wake the house as he snuck back from a rendezvous with his lover, but he didn't know his son was awake.

Without turning around, Tommy spoke. "Morning Dad."

His father jumped, frightened. "God dammit, Tommy! What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?"

Tommy didn't answer, but instead spooned another mouthful of cereal to his lips. His father fumed in frustrated. "Answer me when I'm talking to you, boy! Why the hell are you awake so early?"

"School," He muttered simply. "Why are you?"

"Work." The man spat menacingly. "You know damn well I've got the night shift."

"I also know that you were fired last year." Tommy said, his voice even. "You were at Leslie's last night."

Tommy's father stalked over to him and smacked him hard across the face. "How in hell do you know about Leslie? Does your mother know?"

The younger shook his head. "Not yet."

"Don't you fucking tell her!" His father yelled. "God dammit, sometimes I wish you'd never been born!"

Tommy turned back to his cereal dejectedly, reaching his hand inside his backpack to feel the cool metal of the gun. "You and me both."

* * *

"_What!?!_"

Chad Danforth's shocked expression could be heard across the entire courtyard as he followed his best friend towards his old, beat-up truck. "You're doing _what_ now?"

Troy Bolton rolled his eyes. He loved his best friend, really he did. But he could make mountains out of mole hills at any given time. "You heard me. I'll be at practice tomorrow. Just not today."

"Okay, let me get this straight. You're skipping basketball practice so you can hang out with this girl?" Chad asked, and when Troy nodded, he groaned. "What kind of spell has she put you under?"

Troy shot him a look. "What do you mean?"

"Man, basketball is your _life_." Chad elaborated. "You've always put it first. It came before school, it came before fun, it used to come before _bathing_ when we were younger! Since when did your little crush on the new girl distract your from your love of the game?"

Troy groaned. "For the last time, her name is Gabriella. Stop calling her the new girl."

"Answer my question!"

"I don't know, Chad. It's just a whole different experience when I'm with her." His face was pleasant and dazed. It made Chad want to vomit. "She needs me."

"_We_ need you too!" Chad complained, childlike. "Do you honestly think we'll make it to the finals without your expertise?"

"Dear God, it's one freaking practice!" Troy shouted. "Chill out!"

Chad just stared. "What happened to you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What's wrong with Gabriella?" Chad asked quietly as Troy got into his car. His best friend froze to look at him. "You must know something we all don't."

Troy looked away. "No, I don't."

"But you just said it. 'She needs me.' What does that mean?" Chad pressed on. "Did her father die?"

"I don't know."

"Did her parents get a divorce?"

"Maybe."

"Was there some kind of family emergency?"

"No."

"Did she not want to move out here?"

"Who knows?" Troy threw up his hands. "Why are you asking me this?"

"There has to be some reason. Why can't you just tell me? I'm your best friend."

"She doesn't want people to know." He answered truthfully. "She thinks people will think she's a freak."

Chad snorted. "People already think she's a freak."

Troy gritted his teeth. "I don't."

* * *

_One Hour Before..._

"Jess, how many pages does this report have to be?" Gabriella asked her friend, glancing over at the adjacent computer. "Five? Six?"

"Seven." Jess replied, concentrating on her own computer.

"Eight." Brian filled in with a sloppy grin. "Get it?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "You're such a loser."

"Ah yes, but your loser." He chuckled. "My paper's eight pages, by the way. Overachiever, much?"

"Cheating, much?" Gabriella responded. "You used size sixteen font. It's supposed to be size twelve."

"Whatever." Brian turned his attention to his best friend who'd since entered the computer lab. "Yo, Chris!"

"Hey man." Chris grinned, greeting his friend with a casual slap to the back. "You guys know if Katie's around?"

Jess smiled blissfully. "It's so like you to want to know her whereabouts at all times. She has a double period of Biology today."

"Crap, I forgot." Chris smacked his forehead. "Ah, well. She's got a free period next. I'll catch her then. Hey, have you guys seen Pearson today?"

The girls shook their heads while Brian responded. "No, why?"

"I don't know, he looks kinda sketchy." Chris shivered slightly. "He's acting really weird and he won't talk to anyone. I guess it doesn't help that Kessler isn't here."

"Brent's not here?" Gabriella repeated. "He hasn't missed a day of school in his entire life."

"Maybe Tommy just misses his friend." Jess suggested. "I'm sure that's why he's upset."

"Yeah," the group agreed uneasily. "I'm sure that's it."

* * *

Gabriella bit her lip and knocked on the large oak door, the big brass numbers reading _32_ and the name below the number displayed _Bolton_. It was weird- the door seemed to claim identity to the Bolton family. When no one answered, she knocked a second time and also tried the rectangular doorbell that was glowing a fiery orange. The door was yanked open by a middle-aged woman, two very young toddlers on her hips. Gabriella's eyes widened as four or five other children ran rampant through the house.

"Hi, Gabriella, right?" The woman addressed her. "Troy's been waiting for you. Come on in."

Gabriella stepped into the house, removing her shoes but still fascinated. She'd counted about ten children at this point. The woman placed the two she was carrying on the floor for them to run around. "I'm Troy's mother. It's so nice to meet you. I've heard so many great things."

"It's great to meet you too," Gabriella smiled politely, trying desperately to hide her shock at the multitude of children. "Thanks for having me over."

"Oh, it's not a problem. Not at all." Mrs. Bolton turned towards the stairs. "Troy! Gabriella's here!"

It took a moment but then Troy appeared at the top of the stairs. "Thanks Mom. Hey Gabriella! Come on up."

Gabriella headed upstairs- shocked, dazed, and confused- towards Troy. Once they were in the privacy and silence of his bedroom, she asked the million dollar question. "Those kids... are they your... siblings?"

Troy chuckled. "If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that, I'd be a billionaire."

She smiled. "I can imagine."

"No, they're not. I'm an only child." Troy answered. "My Mom runs a daycare here for the kids in this neighborhood. Her friend usually helps her out, but she's in Florida on vacation this week. So it's just my Mom and twelve little crazies."

"Oh wow. She's so brave." Gabriella remarked. "A daycare in her own house?"

"Yeah, well." Troy shrugged it off. "She and Dad weren't able to have kids and they really wanted more after me. So she saw this as the perfect opportunity."

Gabriella was growing increasingly confused. "If they weren't able to have kids, then how...?"

Troy grinned. "I'm adopted."

"Wow, really?" She smiled. "That's awesome! I-I mean, it might be awesome, I guess. If you're okay with it."

He laughed. "Yeah, it's fine. Nobody knows I'm adopted except you and Chad, though, so keep it on the DL."

"Sure." Gabriella nodded. "You've been keeping my secret, why shouldn't I keep yours?"

They settled themselves onto his bed, absentmindedly flipping through television channels and making small talk. There was one thing Gabriella just couldn't get off her mind, though. "Troy, have you ever wondered about your birth parents?"

He didn't hesitate to answer. "Absolutely. All I know is that they were a really young, teenage couple who did the right thing by giving me up. But what I think about now is where they are. Are they still together? Do they have careers and families of their own? And most importantly, do they still think about me?"

Gabriella smiled softly. "Would you ever want to find them one day?"

To this, Troy adamantly shook his head. "No, never. I don't think I could."

"Why not?"

He'd never admitted this to anyone before. Not to his parents, not to Chad, not to anybody. He didn't like talking about his adoption, just like Gabriella didn't like talking about the shooting. It was her vulnerability, and this was his. He didn't have a problem with the fact that his parents weren't his "birth" parents. He loved them just the same, and they loved him dearly. He didn't mind that his parents were only parents lawfully, not biologically. He simply didn't mind.

But he didn't want to think about the couple who actually were.

Troy sighed. "Because I don't want to meet the people who gave me up. They gave me up for a reason. Why would they want to see me again?"

"Oh, Troy!" Gabriella placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't you think they'd want to see how you turned out? I would, if I had to give a baby up."

He shrugged. "Sure, maybe. I guess I'm just not as brave as you are. I can't face that."

Gabriella drew back as if she'd been slapped. Troy didn't know where the change in tone came from. He hadn't said anything wrong, had he? "Brave as me. Yeah, I'm _so_ brave."

"You are," He tried to instill courage in her but was not succeeding. "The way you're handling what happened..."

"Did I ever tell you what happened Troy?" Gabriella asked, turning to face him. "I told you about Tommy and Hailey, Chris and Katie, and even Brian and Jess. But did I ever tell you what happened that day?"

"No," Troy shook his head. "But it's okay. You don't have to. I read the news reports and-"

Gabriella laughed slightly. "The news reports don't tell you exactly what happened. They weren't there! They had nothing to do with this!"

"Yeah, but neither did you."

"I wish." Gabriella said quietly, removing her zip-up sweatshirt. "If I really hadn't done anything, do you really think he would've done this to me?"

Troy's eyes widened. Right below her shoulder was a big, black and blue bullet-shaped bruise. "He shot you?"

Gabriella nodded, tears prickling her eyes. "Not to kill. Just to teach me a lesson."

* * *

_The Moment Of..._

Gabriella, Jess, and Brian were still perched at their computers through second period when all of a sudden a large bang exploded throughout the air. This bang was followed by some screaming and yet another bang. The trio glanced up over their computers to notice a group of kids fleeing the scene, looks of terror on their faces and eyes darting everywhere at once, fearful. Brian hurried to the computer lab's exit and grabbed a kid into his proximity.

"What is it?" Brian demanded. "What's going on?"

The boy was shaking. "S-Some kid! He's got a gun! He's shooting people! He's shooting everyone!"

As Brian let go of the kid, who sprinted away from him, he hustled back to the girls. "We've got to hide. We've got to do something."

Jess and Gabriella were clinging to each other. "Oh my God! Oh my God!"

Brian pushed them towards the entrance to the library, which was connected to the computer lab. They huddled in a corner between science fiction novels. "Get down!"

They obeyed, silent tears pouring down their cheeks. Brian wrapped his arms around both of them, doing his best to shield them from sight and from harm, but also as a form of comfort. He was scared shitless but he wanted them to feel as though they had a rock to depend on. Gabriella closed her eyes, laid her head upon Brian's bicep and prayed. _God, please watch over my friends and I. Please help us get through this and give us the strength and the courage to hold on. Please let us live. Please let us live. Please let us_-

The door to the library crashed open. There were a few stray shots but no one was hurt. "Aw, come on! I know you're in here! Where are you?"

Gabriella let out a cry and Jess let out a strangled scream, partially muffled by Brian's hand. But it was too late. Tommy had scoped them out, and was now staring down at them with his gun brandished against Jess's forehead. "Ah ha! You think you can hide from me? You think you can get away with it?"

"Tommy?" Gabriella was devastated. "Tommy, don't do this!"

Tommy whirled the gun back towards Gabriella. "You, shut up. Don't interrupt my fun!"

"Hey, Pearson!" Brian stood up, his body blocking both girls'. His voice was shaky and it was clear that he was only trying to be brave for those he was with. "Do what you want with me, but leave the girls alone. They never did anything to you. Come to think of it, neither did I."

"Oh, is that what you're trying to do, now?" Tommy laughed maniacally. "Get on my good side? Well you may not have done it, but your football buddies certainly did. Don't worry, though. They're already taken care of!"

Brian's face paled. "You k-killed them? Where are they?"

Tommy shrugged. "Does it matter? They can't talk to you. They've been silenced for good."

"Take me to them." Brian began to walk away, but turned back towards Tommy. "Take me to them _now_."

"Oh I will," Tommy grinned, lifting the gun again. "On a one-way ticket to death!"

Before Brian could even reply, a bullet pierced his heart and he slumped to the floor, dead. Gabriella hadn't watched it happen- she'd turned away long ago- but she still let out an involuntary cry as she heard his body hit the floor in a heap. Jess held her friend harder as Gabriella's body wracked with sobs, knowing how much the two cared about each other. Brian always used to say that he'd die for Gabriella... but no one knew it would actually come into play.

Tommy cocked the gun again, holding it towards Gabriella. "Stop crying."

She hiccupped, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks. Tommy grew increasingly angry by the minute. "Stop the freaking crying!"

"Did you kill Katie and Chris?" Gabriella asked, afraid of the answer. "And Hailey?"

Tommy ignored her, and instead aimed the gun at Jess. "Your turn."

"Tommy, I didn't ever do anything to you!" Jess pleaded. "I was the one who encouraged Hailey to get back together with you, you know! Please, just let me live!"

But he wasn't swayed. "You know, I hate beggars. I really, _really_ hate it when people beg."

Jess braced herself for the impact and Gabriella closed her eyes as a shot rang throughout the room. She heard Jess let out a finally scream and then there was silence. She was crying again, and trying desperately not to look at the gaping hole in her friend's stomach, from which blood was freely flowing. Instead, she focused on a poster behind Tommy's head. _Today a reader, tomorrow a leader_. Tommy was a big fan of reading. So why wasn't he out there ruling the world? Why did he have to resort to this?

Gabriella's body heaved. "So I guess I'm next, huh?"

Tommy shrugged, utterly calm for a situation like this. "I don't know. I've only got one bullet left."

She nodded, curling herself into a ball. "Just get it over with already."

But Tommy shook his head. "You see, that's the thing. I just can't decide."

"You seemed to make all of the other decisions quite clearly!" Gabriella was angry now. She was devastated and upset and merely furious. "You killed Brian and Jess within point blank range!"

"Gabriella," Tommy spoke her name as if it were the most painful thing he'd ever had to do. "I can't decide if I want to kill you or me."

"What?" If anything, she wasn't expecting this. "What are you talking about it?"

"I have one bullet left. Only one. So do I use it to kill you? Or..." He trailed off, but picked up without much hesitation. "Do I use it to kill myself?"

Gabriella hiccupped again. He continued. "All my life, I knew I wasn't wanted. No one ever loved me. My parents still claim to this day that they'll never use birth control pills again because they simply 'don't work, obviously.' They didn't want me. She's an alcoholic, he's an adulterer, so what does that make me? A loser. A nobody. All I wanted to do since I found my Dad's hunting gear was kill myself. That's been my strongest want."

"Are you trying to make me pity you?" Gabriella asked in an acidic tone. "After what you just did to my friends?"

Tommy laughed, but it wasn't out of bliss. It was a soft, strangled laugh that could only be described out of sadness. "No. No one ever pities me. I get beaten up every day and do you know what the Principal told me? 'Take some self defense classes, boy. Teach those kids a lesson.' He didn't offer to lecture them. He didn't suspend them. He didn't even _talk_ to them."

"Then why couldn't you have just killed yourself?" Gabriella asked quietly. "I'm not an advocator of suicide, but why did you have to resort to this?"

"Because I had to make an impression somehow!" Tommy yelled at her, and she shrunk back, careful not to land on either Brian or Jess's corpses. "No one knew I was alive, and those who did only knew because they'd kick me around. Suicide would be forgotten after a while, but this... this will go down in history."

"You're sick." She responded. "You're horrible and disgusting and vile. How could you ever do this? Why would you ever want to do this?"

"Because," He smiled evilly, lifting the gun towards her. "Now, I'm in control."

Gabriella's eyes widened before clamping shut, bracing herself for the impact as Jess had before. The shot rang out into the early morning, the last shot Tommy had taken on his student body. The bullet penetrated Gabriella's skin and embedded itself in the tissue of her body. Whether she'd fainted or died, she wasn't really sure. But either way, she was unconscious. She didn't feel the blood rush from her body. She didn't hear the faint sounds of sirens approaching the school. She didn't smell the scent of death lingering the air.

She didn't see Tommy Pearson collapse on the ground, his entire body wracking with remorseful sobs.

* * *

Troy sat in awe, clutching Gabriella's hand as she finished her story. Her eyes were closed as if she were reliving it in her mind all over again. He _had_ read about the incident online and he and his parents had watched multiple news coverings on it as well. But nothing was like getting the full story from someone who'd actually _been_ there. Especially someone so emotionally involved as she was. Her eyes opened after a moment, glossed over with saltwater tears as she squeezed his hand.

"You're staring at it, aren't you?"

"Staring at what?" Troy asked nonchalantly, even though he knew she was talking about the recovering hole in her arm.

She placed her hand over it for a moment. "That's why I don't normally wear short sleeve shirts. And especially not tank tops. I can't take the questioning stares. And especially not the heartless questions. Once, someone asked me if I'd been in a gang fight."

"That's ridiculous." Troy seethed. "How could people be so clueless?"

"Well, I don't go around wearing a 'Plainfield Shooting Survivor' sticker on my forehead." She smiled slightly. "But still. I would never ask such a thing."

"I have to ask, though." Troy began. "And this might be a dumb question. Did it hurt?"

Gabriella stared at him. "That is a dumb question. Of course it hurt! It was the most painful thing I've ever felt in my entire life. Even worse than when I broke my wrist nearly in half in the fourth grade. It felt like someone taking a nine-inch nail and jamming into my arm, and then taking a hammer and forcing it in farther."

Troy grimaced. "That doesn't sound pleasant."

"Trust me," She sighed. "It wasn't. It hit a nerve in my upper arm and I had to go to physical therapy to get the feeling back in my arm."

"What amazes me the most, still Gabriella- and I feel like we know each other well enough now that I can admit this to you," He started. "Is that you can tell me all about this and not once shed a tear. How can you not be crying right now?"

"Troy, my tears dried up a long time ago." Gabriella leaned into his grasp with a sigh. "I have nothing left in my well."

* * *

_One Half Hour After..._

"Check the library next."

"We've got four injured on the steps and two casualties in the main office."

"Have you found the perpetrator?"

"He or she has yet to be located."

"The doors to the computer lab have been jammed shut, but it appears that there are only survivors in there. Get them out, and check every aisle in the library."

Chief Officer Steven McPherson wandered up and down each aisle. "No one in here yet. This place is like a ghost town. We haven't- oh, wait. We've got three bodies in sci-fi."

However, before attending to them, he heard a choked sob in the next aisle. Rounding the corner and noticing the rifle beside the boy, he raised his own gun at his forehead. "Don't move!"

Tommy continued to cry, holding his hands up. Officer McPherson knew he was dealing with a dangerous criminal, even if the boy appeared to be just fifteen. "Are you responsible for this?"

Tommy nodded. "It was m-me."

"Only you son? Or did you have help?"

"Just me."

McPherson cuffed the boy and moved towards the rifle. "Is this loaded?"

Tommy shook his head. "It's empty."

"What about the three in the other aisle?"

"T-They're dead!"

Officer McPherson nodded and lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth. "Got the perp. Send backup and medical help. We have three casualties."

The police arrived and took Tommy away long before the paramedics did. Office McPherson examined the three bodies without moving them. He had three teenagers himself, and this event really hit home. Why did kids have to fight? Why did they have to be so cruel? Why couldn't everyone just get along? His heart stitched at the sight of the three. Two young girls and a boy who must be the same age as the criminal. What could they possibly have done to irk him so badly?

Suddenly, there was movement from one of the bodies. The brown-haired girl stirred slightly, and then jerked in pain. When eyes rested on the officer, she sighed in mild relief. "Help... me. Please."

Officer McPherson knelt beside her, shielding her eyes from the other two bodies that lay beside her. "Hi. My name is Steven McPherson. Don't worry, sweetheart. You're going to be okay."

"My... arm..." The girl struggled.

"Is that where he shot you?" He asked. When she nodded, he let his eyes fall on the gaping wound that would need serious medical attention. "We're going to fix it. The paramedics are on their way in. Can you tell me your name?"

"Gabriella...Montez." She suffered through the pain. "And this is... Jessica Collins... and Brian McFarland. My best friend... and my... my... boyfriend."

Officer McPherson nodded at the information given as the paramedics rushed in, tending to her first. "Thank you."

But Gabriella looked towards him again. "I was... with them when they..."

He listened to her, intent on hearing what it was she was trying to say. "When they?"

"I watched... I watched them die." Gabriella uttered, before losing consciousness again.

Officer McPherson lifted the walkie-talkie again, getting out of the EMTs' way. "Scratch the previous report. We've got two casualties in the library and one survivor. Mild to moderate gun wound in the left shoulder. Lucid and understandable, no amnesia."

He sighed before adding, "Will need medical attention and psychological assistance. She's witnessed some serious shit."


	5. Sense of Security

**Hello! Well, as you can tell, I had some issues with this chapter. After the bombshell I dropped on you the last time, I wasn't sure how to make this chapter live up to it. And well, maybe it didn't. But anyway, thank you all for your encouraging reviews! This story, as expected, is extremely difficult to right, as it's such a touchy subject, so thank you so much for everything. And by the way, I told you at the beginning of this story that it was going to be short, about six to eight chapters. Well I've decided- I planned it out- it's going to be eight chapters. So, we're technically almost done. Okay, this was mildly long. Please enjoy!**

**P.S.- If you haven't noticed yet, the sequel to "Seven Wonders" is out! Please check that out and review when you're done here. Thanks!**

**I own nothingggg. Don't forget to review!**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter Five: Sense of Security

What does it take for you to finally feel safe again after a tragedy like that?

When you're involved in a scene from a horror movie that is all too real, how can you possibly go through life again? There's always that shock factor whenever you see someone who was there with you. You're thinking, _hey, remember me? I was two doors down from you in the hospital. He shot me in the arm, where did he shoot you?_ In a non-pleasant manner, you are bonded to life with the other survivors from this terror. It's stunning and surreal, and you are in shock.

But do you feel safe?

Are you afraid when you go to your locker, now, that he'll sneak up behind you and take you hostage again? Are you scared when you hear a loud bang and feel as though it's a gun shot? Do you feel the eyes on you each time your breathing becomes ragged each time someone merely _looks_ at you oddly? Besides the fact that you're afraid, you don't feel protected. Despite your new school's promise that you're under watchful eye, you don't seem like you're in good hands.

And no one seems to understand.

Going through something like this automatically puts you under stress, shock, and fear. Psychological support is your best case scenario after witnessing and enduring the unimaginable pain you've gone through. So... why did you refuse assistance? You might think you don't need the help, and maybe you don't. You might think that your new friends might see you as a psycho, and maybe they would. You might think that seeing a psychologist might interfere with your much too busy schedule, and maybe it could.

But that's not the real reason.

Seeking psychological help means admitting to someone your deepest, darkest fear- that somehow, _he_ might escape again. Some way, _he_ could get through the high-quality security, bars and cuffs binding him to the dirty cold jail cell. This very thought is impeding your way of thinking, making you feel uneasy, insecure. You know that's why you check twice every time go into the library. You know that's why you close your locker gingerly instead of slamming it shut. You know that's why you will never _ever_ watch any movie or read any book that has a gun in it.

You know that's why you still haven't reached that sense of security.

* * *

_Hours After..._

"Brent? Honey? I made you some chicken soup." Brent Kessler's mother's voice rang up the stairs. "I know you're not feeling well today and this soup always makes you feel better when you're sick."

Brent turned in his desk chair. "Thanks, Mom. I'll be down in a minute."

Okay, he wasn't really sick. He'd faked it so he didn't have to go to school that day after the horrifying warning Tommy had given him the day before. Whatever his friend had been planning, he didn't want to be a part of or a witness to it. He'd surfed through different sites on the internet all morning, checked his Facebook dozens of times, and watched various videos on Youtube. He was incredibly bored. Leaning back in his chair, he flicked on his television and began flipping through the channels.

"Cartoons, cartoons, soap operas, Spanish channel, news, news, new- hey." He stopped at a particular news channel as something caught his eye. "That school looks like mine."

"-_a brutal attack on his fellow classmates earlier this morning_-"

Brent's eyes widened and he turned the volume up louder. "What?"

"_The student had planned the attack for three months on the school and came armed with a hunting rifle this morning. He entered the building and went about his day as if it was just another school day before shooting seventeen people, killing ten and severely injuring the others_."

"Oh my God," Brent was glued to the screen. "What kind of psycho did this? Who would've done this?"

He tried to go through all the kids in their small school, attempting to figure out who could've possibly gone crazy. _Whoever it was must've told Tommy_, Brent figured. _How else would he have known?_ Right now, he was thanking Tommy for saving him from the attack and reached for his phone to call his best friend. He should be home now, too, right? If he had known about the shooting then he probably stayed home as well. Brent wondered if Tommy was watching the news like he was, keeping a vigil and trying to see who had survived and who wasn't as lucky.

But as he reached for his phone, something stopped him.

"_Right now we go to Chief Officer Steven McPherson at the scene. Officer, do we know who the shooter is? And why would he do such a thing?_"

The camera panned over to a police officer with a handlebar mustache. "_We do have the perpetrator identified. He is under police custody at this time. Tommy Pierson is a junior at this school, but why he felt the need to kill is classmates is not known as of right now._"

Brent nearly vomited on the floor. "To-... Tommy?"

"_Do his parents know of the actions he committed today? What are their reactions?_"

"_We have been trying to contact parents of Tommy Pierson for the past few hours, but there was no response._"

"_One more question before we let you go, Officer. How did Tommy go about choosing his victims?_"

Officer McPherson glanced down for a moment before answering. "_It is clear that Tommy knew exactly who he wanted dead. These people... these students- in his eyes- clearly had it coming_."

"_Thank you Officer McPherson. We'll bring you more updates on this horrific shooting tonight at five. Stick with us._"

"Brent?" His mother was now at his bedroom door. "Honey, what are you watching? You look even worse than before."

Brent was pale as a ghost. At least he didn't have to fake sick anymore...

* * *

Gabriella Montez sighed as she pulled open the door to the school early Thursday morning, ignoring the pointed stares and glances she was drawing from her fellow student body. She clutched her books closer to her as she walked over to her locker and twisted the short combination, gingerly placing her things inside before shutting the door. Crossing her arms as a form of protection- from what, she wasn't really sure- she walked slowly but meaningfully towards Troy's group of friends. She'd never actually confronted them in person, but there was a first for everything, wasn't there?

"Troy?" She called out and he turned, giving her a smile. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure," He shrugged, and then motioned to his friends. "Be right back."

Gabriella didn't look at him, but assumed he was following as she walked down the many winding hallways towards her destination. There was a deserted hallway near the back entrance of the school and this led to the big red doors she was headed for. Yanking them open, she paused only a moment to hold one open for Troy before heading up the stairs and into the early morning sun. Gabriella had discovered the rooftop gardens a week earlier when she couldn't find a nearby staircase to her Chemistry room. This hadn't been one, but instead she spent the period there, soaking up the wonderful atmosphere on that tiny little patch of rooftop.

Silently, she sat down upon one of the benches provided. Troy followed suite. "What's up?"

Gabriella, playing with her hands, was quiet. "Do you hate me?"

"Do I hate you?" He repeated. "Why would you ask that?"

"Do you think I'm a freak?" She asked, her eyes still in her lap. "Do you?"

"No, Gabriella. Why?" Troy questioned simply. "Why would you think that I hated you?"

"Everyone thinks I'm a freak." She stated simply. "Taylor, Sharpay, all of your friends. Even people I've never even talked to!"

"Well they don't know anything." Troy reassured her. "You aren't a freak."

"But I am," She insisted. "I can't do anything anymore. Have you heard what people have said about me?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"I tried talking to my Mom about it. You know, for moral support." Gabriella reasoned. "But she just told me that I can't listen to what everyone says. And I mean I'm not trying to play the sympathy card and say, 'Hey! Everyone! Feel bad for me! I went through something horrible!' But it's like, come on! It's Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, I know, but-"

"You're finally seeing a therapist?" Troy asked. "Good for you."

She stuck her tongue out in distaste. "Yeah, by my mother's insistence. I didn't want to. I tried telling her I had you, but that didn't go over in my favor."

"Gabriella, I'm not a professional."

"Yeah, well you might as well be." She stated. "You're the only one I've talked to about this whole thing and you already made me feel a lot better."

"Well good. You're welcome." He smiled. "But about the school, you really can't listen to them. I know it's easier said than done, but you'll just have to work even harder to show them the kind of person you really are."

"But Troy, that's just the thing." Gabriella said, finally looking at him through tear-filled eyes. "I don't know who I am anymore."

Wrapping arm around her shoulders, he kissed her temple. "Gabriella, I've never known who I am, if that makes you feel any better. You and I are practically in the same boat."

She glanced up at him. "But you're so cool. You even look at a girl and they fall head over heels for you. Troy, you might not know who you are, but you can be anyone you want to be."

Troy returned her stare. "So can you."

* * *

_The Night After..._

Gabriella sat motionless on the hospital bed, her eyes tiny slits as she watched nurses rush up and down the corridor of the emergency room, frantically trying to get everyone the treatment they needed. She turned her head- slowly, painfully- towards her left arm and winced at the sight. The gaping hole where they'd removed the bullet just hours before was bandaged hundreds of times over, blood seeping through for all to see. The morphine they were administering did nothing to cure the raging pain in her heart from losing so many that were close to her. Even breathing hurt her too much to the point where she wanted it all to just stop.

Is this how Tommy had felt too?

Inhaling and exhaling took all the strength out of her that she tried desperately to hold onto, following this situation. A cheery young nurse, despite the situation, entered her room just then to give her a sedative to sleep. "Evening, Miss Montez. Tired?"

"Exhausted," She gasped, trying to remember how to speak. "When can... when can I...?"

"Oh hun, you shouldn't try talk just yet. It'll wear you out too much." The nurse advised. "I'm going to give you a sedative and that'll help you-"

"_No,_" Gabriella stated adamantly, shocked by her own strength when it seemed nowhere to be found. "I want to see... who's left."

"Who's left?" The nurse looked confused and rocked back on her heels. "What do you mean?"

"Tommy," Gabriella whispered. "He couldn't kill... everyone... could he?"

The nurse bit her lip. "Well, no."

"Who's... left?"

"A lot of people, honey." She sighed. "Of the seventeen people Tommy shot, only seven of you lived."

But Gabriella was struggling. "Why won't you... just tell me... what I want... to know!"

"I did, didn't I?"

Finally, the brunette gave up, falling back on her pillows and shedding one single tear. "Brian...Jess... where are you?"

The nurse seemed frightened and stuck the needle of the sedative injection in her arm as quickly as possible. Gabriella continued on. "Hailey... oh Hailey... where's Katie? Chris?"

Simple tears turned to sobs as Gabriella realized, "_I'm the only one left!_"

* * *

Troy Bolton sat in his truck in the parking lot of the school, thinking long and hard about his conversation with Gabriella.

True, he should've been in class at that moment. But his school didn't exactly have the best security- don't tell Gabriella- and he snuck out the back door, hurrying to his truck where he did all of his quality thinking. He'd never actually thought about not knowing who he was before, but ever since she said she felt like her true identity was gone, it brought back all of the questions he'd had as a child. Who were his _real_ parents? Where did he come from?

Who was he?

Groaning, he wished there was a way he could find this out _without_ trying to visit his biological parents. He always had that sense of a nagging feeling inside, and just wanted to find that sense of security. It was kind of like Gabriella's situation, in that she couldn't feel safe again until she knew Tommy was locked away forever. Sighing, he got back out of the car and made his way to the school. It did no use to mull this over while his head was elsewhere.

Troy trudged to his locker, still lost in thought as Chad approached. "Hey, where were you in Trig? You missed some crazy stuff. Something about parabolic curves... I don't know."

"Me either. I've been thinking."

"That's never good." Chad teased. "What about?"

"Me." He stated simply. "Chad, have you ever wondered who I _really_ am?"

"Um, not really."

Troy sighed. "Well I have. Think about it. When we do family history projects, I'm exempt. While people are freaking out over getting heart disease because their great-grandmother had it, I'll never know what I'm in line for. It's crazy."

"There's not much you can do about it, though, is there?" Chad questioned. "I mean it's not like you can contact them."

Troy thought a moment. "I don't know. Maybe I can."

* * *

_Four Hours After..._

"Welcome to your new room." Officer McPherson said sarcastically, dragging Tommy Pierson into a jail cell. "You'll stay here until your trial. I'm going to contact your lawyer-"

"I don't have a lawyer." Tommy uttered, staring at floor.

"You'll certainly need one."

"We can't afford it."

Officer McPherson glanced at the boy. "You get one anyway. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I go?"

Tommy Pierson remained silent, sinking slowly to the floor and covering his face with his hands. Officer McPherson's eyes remained on the boy as he waited for him to say something, anything. How could he go on such a rampage and not have anything to say? There was a sheer silence the room, so deadly you could hear a pin drop. Officer McPherson believed Tommy felt some remorse; after all, he had found him sobbing on the floor of the school. But when Tommy finally lifted his gaze, there was nothing but a blank stare.

"Well?"

Tommy swallowed hard. "Kill me."

"What?" The officer was taken aback.

"Just kill me," Tommy pleaded. "There's no use for this trial. I'm going to die anyway."

"Tommy, why did you do it?" Office McPherson inquired, begging the boy for a straight answer.

Tommy stared right back. "Why did they?"


	6. How to Cope

**Two for one =)**

**Thanks for the previous reviews and for those in the future. Sorry about making you wait a month to get this out. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter Six: How to Cope

When do you think you'll be able to cope?

It's been over a year now and yet you're still scared? You've moved away and yet you're still afraid? You're attending a new school and yet you're _still_ so frightened that he'll come for you? Even though you know that he can't; he was found guilty, of course, and was locked away forever. Even though you know that you're safe. Even though you know that no matter what happens, no matter _what_, life would never be that hellish as it was that early March morning. It's long since over and lightening doesn't strike the same place twice.

Does it?

You watched as the same girl you played in the sandbox with in kindergarten got treated for her gaping bullet wound in her right leg. You saw the mangled and bloody face of the boy who lent you a pencil in Math class the day before the tragedy. You witnessed, grimly, the bright white sheet being pulled over one of your best friends, her body too far gone for identification but you still know who she is. This is the same girl who fought with you over who was cuter- Orlando or Johnny. This is the same girl who gave you half of her turkey wrap everyday at lunch because your mom made you tuna fish. This is the same girl who spent more time at your house than her own, called you her sister, shared your clothes.

This girl, your very best friend, is gone, and it feels like one half of you is missing.

Even though you're seeing a psychologist twice a week, you may never recover from the horror. How can you? The people you were closest to in your life are gone and you'll never see any of them again. Your mother asks you why you're so upset all the time and why you just can't seem to let it go. Your new friends want to know why you always blow them off when they want to make plans to see a movie or have a sleepover, a girl's night. The specialist asks when you're ever going to give it up. When are you going to move on? When are you going to cope?

But that's not the real question. And you don't know the real answer.

It's not a matter of _when_ you'll be able a cope, because you don't know _how_.

* * *

_One Week After..._

"...so you're telling me, Brent Kessler," The prosecution tapped her chin. "That your best friend Tommy Pearson, the defendant, warned you ahead of time that you shouldn't come to school the next day and you didn't think otherwise?"

Brent Kessler gulped, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Y-Yes."

"He says quote, 'Do me a favor. Don't come to school tomorrow.' Is that correct?"

He couldn't look at Tommy without wanting to vomit, so he focused his attention on the far wall. "Yes."

"After he says this you get this feeling that he is going to do something wrong and you _still_ don't tell anybody?"

"Objection!" The defense jumped up, saving Brent from answering. "Prosecution can't know what the witness was feeling."

"Sustained," The judge decided with a sigh.

"I'll redirect, your honor." The prosecutor smiled politely. "How did you feel when Tommy told you this?"

"A little nervous, I guess." Brent replied. "He got this eerie, faraway look in his eyes when he talked to me. Honestly, I just thought he was trying to protect me. I guess, in a way, he was."

The prosecutor nodded. "Why did you make the decision not to tell anyone what was going on? A simple statement to authorities could've prevented the death of ten people, you know."

Brent was so nervous and panicky that he could barely breathe. He choked out an answer. "I don't know! I didn't know what to do! It was freaky, okay? I didn't wanna tell anyone and have it be nothing so I just kept my mouth shut! I didn't know it was going to turn out like this!"

"Thank you." The prosecutor smiled devilishly. "Your witness."

The defense attorney sighed and stood, walking over to Brent. "Did you have any prior knowledge that Tommy Pearson was mentally disturbed or distressed in any way, shape, or form?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Has he ever exhibited any violent behavior when you were around?"

"No," Brent answered again. "I mean we liked to play video games and blow things up, but those weren't real people."

"So you would not ever expect Tommy to do anything like this?"

He shook his head again. "Never."

The defense grinned. That's exactly what he wanted to hear. Going up to a member of the jury, he said, "Hey, don't go to TGI Friday's tonight, okay?"

She nodded. "Sure."

Moving around the room, he called out, "Don't go to the bathroom, okay? Don't go outside. Don't go over to your parents' house tonight."

"Objection!" The prosecution rose. "Relevance?"

"I have a point, I promise." The man said.

"Then make it, please." The judge stated.

"These were all valid and harmless warnings, weren't they?" He asked and got a chorus of agreements. "Thank you. Now this is exactly what Brent felt Tommy was doing to him. Giving him a harmless warning. Why would I give you any reason to feel like I was going to come into the TGI Friday's and shoot everyone? Why would Tommy give Brent that feeling?"

No one had an answer and he grinned. "Exactly. He didn't. The defense rests."

The prosecuting attorney, however, had a different story. She stood. "Okay, you're right. I admit that. Why would Tommy give Brent that feeling?"

"The point is, this whole thing was not Brent Kessler's fault," She stared at Tommy. "It's _yours_."

* * *

Troy stared at the manila envelope in his hands as he turned it over and over. He couldn't believe he was truly holding his personal history in his hands after not knowing it for so long. He traced the scrawling script of whomever it was that had written it, the delicate way she- he was guessing it was a she- had written his name. He hadn't opened the envelope yet and wasn't sure if he wanted to. The look on his mother's face was a bit hurt and a bit shocked. She masked it well, though, and smiled as she placed a bowl of cereal in front of him.

"It came yesterday," She explained. "But you and your father were out so late last night I didn't see you, so... here it is."

"Mom," He looked up. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. "No, no, Troy. It's okay. I've always known you were curious. I just didn't know you'd want to find out so badly and in secret. I didn't know you couldn't tell me."

"Mom, it's not that," Troy sighed. "It's just I wasn't sure if you'd let me look if I told you. I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but I want to know who I am."

"I understand," His mother told him, encircling him in a hug. "I would too if I were you. So what are you waiting for? Open it up."

But he shook his head. "I don't think so. I've been waiting six years; I can wait a little longer."

Troy drove to school that morning determined to share his news with none other than Gabriella. She had been the one who had encouraged him to do this in the first place and he knew he didn't want to be with anyone else when he found out who he was and where he came from. He searched the school before finding her chatting with Taylor and grabbed her hand, racing towards the rooftop garden where many of their important talks happened. Settling down on the metal bench, he turned the envelope in his hands again, barely able to function.

"God Troy, what is it?" Gabriella asked, a bit out of breath from their race through the school. "What's that?"

"This," He glanced up. "Is my life story. I contacted the adoption agency and they sent me this information."

"Oh my God," She whispered. "Have you opened it yet?"

Troy shook his head. "You're the one who persuaded me to do this. I figured you could be here when I did."

"Of course. Go for it."

"Certificate of Live Birth, Baby Boy," He read carefully, trying not to miss anything. "Mother: Jennifer A. Masterson, 15. Father: Joshua L. Kent, 16. Status at birth: Couple. Current status: Divorced. Address: 16 Cambridge Road, Middlebury, Vermont. Phone number: Unlisted."

"Wow, an address and everything?" Gabriella remarked, but Troy was silent. "You could find them, you know."

"I could," He said quietly. "But that would mean facing reality... and I don't know if I can do that."

* * *

_Two Weeks After..._

"Where do you want to go to lunch?" Maria Montez asked her daughter, helping her get up out of her hospital bed. "I'm yours all day."

"Mom," Gabriella sighed. "I don't want to go out. I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed."

"You don't want to go and celebrate?"

"Celebrate what?" She shot back sarcastically. "The fact that all my friends are dead?"

Maria glanced at her daughter in reprimand. "Gabriella..."

"Whatever, let's just go."

Gabriella stalked in front of her mother and walked down the corridor of the ICU for the last time. She kept her head straight, not daring to look into any of the rooms as they passed for fear of seeing one of her classmates in a coma or the same horrific state she'd been in the past few weeks. Just as she thought she'd made it through without trouble, she glanced up at the wrong time. Chris Davis was hobbling down the hallway, his father assisting him in the act, trying desperately to get his leg to work again. Gabriella hadn't seen him since the disaster and was frozen in place. Chris smiled.

"Hey! Gabriella! You're okay!" He shouted cheerfully. "I wasn't sure if you'd made it. The nurses don't tell you jack shit around here."

"Chris, watch the language." His father warned, helping to lower his son into his wheelchair. He smiled at Gabriella. "I'll leave you two alone."

Once his father had left, Chris flashed her another smile. "So how are you, Gab? It's been a while."

"He shot me in the arm." Gabriella stated, not wanting cheery talk and knowing she couldn't handle it. "Where'd he shoot you?"

Chris motioned towards the left leg. "The leg. Fucked it up really bad, too. Can't even walk now, stupid-ass kid."

"Were you with Katie?" She asked and then her breath hitched. "Katie... is she...?"

"Yeah, I was with her. We were in the cafeteria, with Hailey." He sighed. "He aimed the gun at Hailey first so I turned Katie away, towards me so she wouldn't have to see. I just remember hearing Hailey cry and beg for him not to kill her. I was holding Katie's head to my chest and my eyes were squeezed shut, trying to protect her but also myself. There were four gun shots and then it was over."

Gabriella swallowed hard. "W-Where...?"

"The first hit Hailey's shoulder, the second to her heart, which is ultimately what killed her." Chris explained, trying to keep it as clean as possible. "The third hit me in the leg and... the fourth hit Katie in the back."

"Oh my God..."

"But I'm alright," Chris finished. "Shaken up, but alright. It's Katie that's not doing so well. The doctors say I'll be able to walk soon, I guess. Katie's paralyzed from the waist down... she'll... never walk again."

Tears were already pouring down her cheeks, but Gabriella knew Chris wanted to hear her side of the story too. "I was with Brian and Jess in the computer lab. He came in and shot Brian in the heart and Jess in the stomach before getting me in the shoulder. They're both... gone."

Chris squeezed his eyes shut in pain. "It's not fair, Gabriella! Why were we the chosen ones? What had we ever done to him?"

Shaking her head, Gabriella could only shrug. "I don't know. I don't know."

"I wish so badly that I could see that kid right now," Chris fumed, his fists clenched against the armrests of the wheelchair. "I want to beat the living shit out of him. Of course, I couldn't do it if I wanted to because of my fucking leg."

"I know."

"Look, I should probably get back to Katie," Chris reasoned. "I'll tell her that you're alright. Promise you'll come see her sometime?"

Gabriella swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Sure."

He gave her a hug before smiling and beginning to wheel away. "See you around?"

But she shook her head. "Goodbye Chris."

* * *

The phone rang at the Montez household as Gabriella was finishing up her last bit of homework. She didn't usually give out her phone number, so it was a bit odd that someone had it. Thinking it was Troy, she leapt over her bed and reached for the portable phone, clicking on and resting on her bed. She expected the easy conversation between them to flow automatically, but nothing came. Instead, she was met with an unfamiliar voice that maybe she should've recognized.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"_I'm sorry, do I have the wrong number? This is Gabriella Montez, isn't it?_"

"Yeah, that's me," She answered warily. "But... who are you?"

There was a slight pause before an answer came. "_Gabriella, it's me. Katie Mitchell._"

Gabriella's heart sunk to the deep pit in her stomach. Her breathing quickened and she began to feel nauseas. Why was Katie calling? And how had she gotten her number? "K-Katie?"

"_Yeah. You remember me, don't you? We went to school together up here... Tommy Pearson-_"

"Yes, yes, of course. I remember you." Gabriella didn't need a play-by-play of what had happened. "It's just I haven't talked to you in a year or so. How are you?"

"_Oh, you know. Learning to live life from a wheelchair, but other than that I'm alright. How are you? How's everything going down there in the desert?_"

"It's fine. Not too hot yet, anyways." Gabriella answered simply. "Katie, if you don't mind me asking, why are you calling me?"

"_Gabriella, we're best friends. I don't understand why you had to alienate yourself from Chris and me, but we miss you. A phone call or e-mail would be nice now and then, you know?_"

She gulped. "I'm sorry. I miss you guys too. It's just that... I can't talk to you without thinking of what happened."

"_Thinking about what happened is what finally got us to cope. Maybe you should stop running away from your past and just embrace it. It's a part of who you are now, no matter if you want it to be or not._"

"I guess your right. I just can't help it. It's so hard trying to be positive about the situation knowing that all our friends are dead."

"_And you think it isn't hard for me as well? I know how you're feeling and no, it's not fun, but we don't have a choice. You have to cope and move on so you're not stuck in a state of depression the rest of your life._"

Gabriella nodded, all the while knowing Katie couldn't see her. "Thanks for setting me straight, Kate. You were always good at doing that."

"_Well Chris and I figured that's why you've been blowing us off. At least I can still do something right_."

"Katie," Gabriella pleaded with her friend. "Nothing's wrong with you."

There was a long sigh on the other end of the phone. "_Nothing's right with me, either._"

* * *

"Troy," Gabriella proposed the next day at school. "I've got a little proposition for you."

Troy watched her amusedly. "I'm listening."

"Spring Break is next week," She began. "And I was thinking that you and I should go on a little trip."

"A trip?"

"Yes, to the Northeast, to be exact." She explained. "I'll go with you to Middlebury to meet your parents if you come with me to Plainfield to see Chris and Katie. It's a win-win situation, I think."

Troy thought it over for a moment. This could be the trip in which he met his birth parents, how could he turn it down? Plus a few days spent with Gabriella would also be a major bonus. But on the other side, what if his birth parents didn't like him? What if they didn't want to meet him and that's why they'd agreed to a closed adoption? What if he made a bad first impression and they didn't like the way he'd been brought up? There was so much to think about and so much swimming around in his mind that he certainly couldn't make the decision right this second.

Could he?

"Okay," He grinned. "You've got yourself a deal."


	7. If It Hadn't Happened

**I know what you're going to say, because I would be in the exact same position as you right now. I'm SO freaking sorry. This story became second priority after "I'll Be There For You" came out, and I know that wasn't fair of me to do to you guys. I'm really sorry, again, and thank you for the reviews and still sticking with me even after I haven't updated in over a month. Hopefully, this chapter will make it up to you. This is the second to last chapter of "The Last Shot." Enjoy, and again, I'm realllyyyyy sorry!**

**I'm still owning nothing, here. Even after a month. ;)**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter Seven: If It Hadn't Happened

How does it feel, now, that you're back where you started?

This eerie feeling you're getting is not just a coincidence. You're back on the same ground you walked days before and days after the tragedy occurred. Although, you're not seeing the same people. There are new faces in town, as you know all to well that the old faces have either skipped town, taken to their homes as hermits, or died out. It's very strange to walk down the streets now and have people stare at you like you're from a foreign country. Like you don't belong.

Like you don't know what this poor little town went through.

But you do know, and even though you want to prove it to them, tell your side of the story, show your forever bruised arm, you don't. Even though you want to stand at the top of a building and scream, even though you want to tell everyone you meet how much pain you're _still_ in, even though you want to break down and cry at every familiar face, you don't. You want to escape like you did that day, nearly unscathed. You want to turn around, tell yourself that this journey was a bad idea, and go home. You want to do these things, but you _don't_.

You simply just don't have the strength.

There's the police station, you note, as you grimly walk by and remember how _he_ was detained there for weeks before his trial. There's the street he lived on, the small little brick house, the sad-looking iron gate and fence surrounding it. And there's the little street that led to your former high school, where your fate was made, where your friends and classmates met their demise, where you screamed and pleaded to be let free. Though, no matter how many bad memories these places are bringing back to you, you can't help but see them as something else.

It's part of your healing process, isn't it?

Even though you can't, you want to head down the street and knock on your best friend's door, inviting her out to get an ice cream cone or go see the latest movie. Even though you know it's not possible, you want to go back to school, passing your friends in the hallway, saying hello to your favorite teachers and avoiding those you couldn't stand. Even though it will never happen, you just want to have a sleepover with your three best friends, like old times. But, if none of this will ever happen, why do you still want it? How can you be so desperate?

Because, now that you're back, all you can think about are the 'what ifs?'

Where would you be now? What would your life be like? And, how would things be different if it hadn't happened...?

* * *

Gabriella Montez was nervous.

No, she was downright _terrified_.

"You don't have to do this," Maria Montez reminded her daughter as they parked outside of Katie Mitchell's childhood home. "We can go home right now if you want to."

"Mom," Gabriella sighed. "We didn't fly three thousand miles just to turn around and go home. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," She assured her mother. "Besides, Troy's with me."

Troy Bolton smiled politely. "Don't worry Miss Montez. Everything will be fine."

Maria bit her lip. "Well, okay."

The teenagers climbed out of the car and bid farewell to Gabriella's mother, promising they'd call when they needed a ride back to their hotel. Gabriella opened the white picket gate and stepped onto Katie's property, immediately being immersed in memories. There was the big oak tree in the front yard where they used to picnic under as kids. The garden hose was coiled lazily around the hook by the garage, and Gabriella remembered making a sprinkler out of it in middle school when it had been unbearably hot. The apple tree in the backyard was directly in front of Katie's window and when they were freshmen in high school, they had snuck out one night to meet Chris and Brian.

So many good times. So many memories.

Troy slipped his hand through one of hers and squeezed in gently in an offer of support. Gabriella smiled gratefully at him as they walked up the front walk and up the steps to Katie's front door. She rang the bell twice and they waited for an answer. Katie's mother was a radiologist at the hospital and of course would be working whereas her father, an entrepreneur who had started his own business six years ago, may as well possibly be at home. But when the door swung open a few minutes later, it wasn't Katie's father who answered.

It was Chris.

Chris Davis looked exactly the same as he had when she'd seen him last in the hospital. His dark brown hair was still shaggy and hung in his eyes as he looked at her, his bright green eyes shining with shock and amazement. He was no longer walking with crutches, she noticed, and his leg wasn't bandaged anymore. Chris looked as though he hadn't gotten any sleep in a few weeks, but still managed to spread a grin across his face as he realized that one of his very good old friends was standing right before him.

Gabriella bit her lip. "Hi Chris."

"Gabriella?" He spoke softly. "Really? You're really here?"

She nodded and that was all it took for Chris to envelop her in a hug. He still smelled the same, she noted, and closed her eyes into the embrace. "Gabriella, we've missed you so much."

"I missed you guys too," She sighed as they pulled apart. "Oh, Chris? This is Troy Bolton, a really good friend of mine from my new school. Troy, this is Chris Davis."

Troy and Chris acknowledged each other. "Nice to meet you. Heard a lot."

"Really?" Chris sounded impressed. "I'm surprised Gabriella said anything."

"Chris I told him everything," She explained. "That's why he's here."

"Oh." There was a slight pause in conversation before Chris stepped aside. "Well come in. Katie'll die when she sees you."

They entered the house and shut the door behind them as Chris led the way up the stairs and towards Katie's room. Again, Gabriella was flooded with memories. There were pictures all over the wall of Katie as a child, Katie playing softball, Katie at her dance recital. There were pictures of Katie, Jess, Hailey, and Gabriella as young kids swimming in Hailey's pool, the four of them at the middle school 'Moving Up' ceremony, and at high school orientation. Then, the one picture that killed her. There was a picture of Katie and Chris and Brian and Gabriella all dressed up and ready to go to their freshmen semi-formal dance.

It was one of the most magical nights of her life, but this picture only brought pain and sadness.

Chris walked over the threshold and into Katie's room. "Kate, guess who's here?"

"Who?" Came the soft, sweet voice of Gabriella's best friend.

Gabriella followed her friend but the second she stepped into the room, she wished she'd never made the journey. Katie Mitchell was seated by the window of her bedroom in a wheelchair, a soft blanket resting over her legs. She was pale and had deep circles under her eyes but tried her best to smile at Gabriella and her new friend when they walked in the door. Gabriella watched helplessly as Katie reached down to the wheels of her chair and rolled slowly over to the doorway to greet her friend.

"Gabriella," She whispered softly, glancing up at her friend. "Hi."

"Oh my God, Katie," Was all Gabriella could say before she knelt down beside her friend and burst into tears.

Katie and Gabriella wrapped their arms around each other in form of comfort and sobbed together. They hadn't seen each other since the day of the shooting, when both of them were still unharmed and well. For Katie, seeing Gabriella healed and healthy was a relief, as she wasn't sure that her friend had made it out of that tragedy completely unscathed. For Gabriella however, seeing her friend so vulnerable, so helpless only solidified the moment for her in her mind. Katie had suffered for something she hadn't even done and now was paying the consequences for the actions of others.

It wasn't fair.

Katie was paralyzed from the waist down after one of Tommy Pearson's bullets pierced her lower spine and cut off her nerve supply. She was bound to her wheelchair for the rest of her life for someone else's stupid actions. She'd never learn to drive. She'd never walk down the aisle at her own wedding. She'd never be the ballerina or track runner or five-star swimmer that she'd dreamt about being since she was a kid. Her beautiful long legs that she'd gotten so many compliments on were now useless, lifeless appendages hanging from the lower half of her body.

And there was nothing anyone could do about it.

* * *

_Two Months After_...

"Ready to go, Gabriella?"

Gabriella took one last look at the house she'd grown up and nodded. She was finally getting out of New Hampshire and away from the life that only brought back horrible memories. Though this was the house that she had played in, laughed in, grown in, she couldn't wait to get out and explore life in a different town. That and she couldn't bear to be reminded daily of what she'd gone through just months before. She didn't tell anyone that she was leaving- there simply wasn't anyone left to tell.

And yet, as she was finishing packing up the car, a figure caught her attention. "Gabriella!"

The young girl turned to see a teenaged boy running up the sidewalk towards her house. When he got closer, she realized it was Brent Kessler, and Brent only reminded her of Tommy. Inching closer to the car, she greeted him. "Hi Brent. What do you want?"

"I... where are you going?" The boy asked, glancing at the Montez's car which was packed full of luggage and home items.

"I'm moving to New Mexico." She informed him.

"Why?" Brent questioned in curiosity.

Gabriella looked bewildered. Wasn't it obvious? "Look Brent, I know you weren't there that day, but you had to have heard. All my friends are dead. There's no reason for me to stay."

"But Chris and Katie," He shook his head. "They're okay, right?"

Gabriella shrugged. "Chris is in so much pain he can barely move. Katie's paralyzed. Yeah, you can thank your best friend for that."

Brent sighed and murmured as Gabriella turned away. "It's my fault."

This made her stop in her tracks. "It's what?"

"My fault," He repeated. "I just came over to say I'm sorry."

"Brent, Tommy was the one who did this. How could it be your fault?"

Brent stood there for a moment, staring at the ground and trying to settle his demons before he spoke. "Tommy warned me not to come to school that day. The day before, when he was acting all weird, remember?"

She nodded and he continued. "He said, 'Do me a favor. Don't come to school tomorrow.' I asked him why and he just repeated himself. He was acting really strange and I should've caught on that something was wrong with him by the way he was talking and expressing himself, but I just didn't. I don't know why, because I've known him my whole life, but I didn't. I just thought he was warning me of a really hard test or something illegal. I didn't know he was talking about murder!"

Gabriella listened to Brent's confession in shock. So someone _did_ know about this event beforehand. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I don't know!" He looked so pained it was scary. "I don't know, but I wish I did! I guess I just felt like if I told someone and it turned out to be nothing... people would think I was a bigger loser than they already did. They'd think I was paranoid or something, I don't know. But he wasn't a violent kid. He _never_ did anything remotely violent to anyone, why would I think he would ever do this?"

She completely understood. "Thanks for telling me that, Brent. I'm glad you told me."

He rocked back on his heels and sighed. "Goodbye, Gabriella. Good luck in New Mexico."

* * *

"This is it," Gabriella sighed, squeezing Troy's hand for comfort. "The last shot. Are you ready?"

Troy nodded. "I guess so. Nervous, of course. But I'm ready."

They were standing outside of his birth mother's home, ready to ring the doorbell. Well, Gabriella was ready. Troy was deathly afraid that somehow they wouldn't want to see him. The house was cute- it was Dutch colonial, with blue shutters and a big red door. It looked kind of patriotic in a way and was very homey looking. Troy rang the doorbell and waited until a young girl, probably about nine or ten, answered the door. Troy realized that this could be his biological sister he was looking at.

He smiled politely at her. "Hi. Is your Mom home?"

She nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. Why?"

"Would you mind if I talked to her?"

Again, the girl was reluctant. She did, however, turn back into the house and yell, "_Mom!_ Someone's at the door for you!"

A middle-aged woman approached the door and smiled at her daughter. "Thanks, Lindsay. Now please go finish your lunch."

The girl skipped away and the woman smiled. "Hello! Can I help you?"

Gabriella squeezed Troy's hand again as he spoke. "I'm hoping you can. Are you Jennifer Masterson?"

"Yes I am."

"Then can you tell me who I am?" He asked. "My name's Troy Bolton and... I'm your son."

Jennifer Masterson stared for a long time at this teenage boy before her eyes began to water. "Oh my..."

"I'm sorry." Troy apologized, kicking himself already for wanting to come here. "You probably don't want anything to do with me and that's why you gave me up. But I just... I had to know who you were."

Tears continued to pour down her face as she looked him over. "You... you're really my son?"

He looked down. "Guilty."

"You're so handsome," She cried. "So tall and handsome. I knew I shouldn't have given you up. I should've figured out a way to raise you like I wanted to."

Whoa. Troy was _not_ expecting this at all. "You didn't want to put me up for adoption?"

Jennifer shook her head. "Come inside, Troy. I have so much to tell you."

* * *

This was the last thing Gabriella had to do to settle her own demons and finally reach a sense of closure.

Troy and Maria were waiting by the car as Gabriella walked slowly through the cemetery, scanning the headstones for those names she'd recognize. Finally, she came to a stop before the big grey stone labeled _Jessica Collins_. Sitting down next to the stone, she place one of the roses she brought by the stone and sighed. "Hi Jess, it's me, Gabriella."

Just beginning this action made her eyes water and she knew she wouldn't get through this without breaking down in sobs. "I know, it may seem weird that I've come here, but... I really couldn't bring myself to relive the situation. Jess, I'm so sorry he killed you and not me. I'm sorry Tommy was such an evil monster. I'm sorry that you're lying there underground and I'm still living... it's not fair!"

"Chris and Katie say hi too. I'm sure they come and visit you a lot more than I do. Same with your parents. I hope they're doing okay and your little brother... it's not fair that you had to leave them. I miss you Jess. A lot and... I'm sorry."

Moving on to Hailey, she sobbed even harder. "Hailey, oh my God. When Chris told me what Tommy did to you... I don't even know what I felt. Shock, fear, fright, and it was so disturbing. He's such an asshole that isn't worth the dirt you're buried under. I miss you so much. I moved to New Mexico and I have new friends... but none of them compare to you. You and I were like sisters and it just isn't fair! Why couldn't you have just told him nicely? Why couldn't you have cared about him? Maybe then he wouldn't have done this."

Realizing this was useless, she wiped her tears. "Hailey, I can't bother myself with what ifs, because obviously that's just tedious. But still... I can't help but hold on."

And last but not least, she came to the stone entitled _Brian J. McFarland_. "Brian... you didn't have to do it. You didn't have to die for me and you didn't have to take the bullet. Of course I'm glad you did and of course I think you're incredibly brave and wonderful for doing so. It's because of that that I know you really did care about me. I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I do have to admit that for a few weeks before that I was thinking you were only dating me to reap the benefits of my I.Q. But now I know that's not true and I'm so sorry and feel so guilty for ever believing that."

She swallowed hard. "I think I loved you once, Brian. But you have to admit we did grow apart within the last few months before the shooting. And I think... I think I might possibly be in love again. You'd like him, Brian. He's sweet and funny and protective, just like you. I'm sure you'd approve. I know you'd think he was good for me, because you were always like that. If you couldn't be with me, you'd want the most perfect guy for the job and I think I met him. He helped me to get past the tragedy and continues to give me strength everyday."

"Of course I miss you like crazy," She gulped. "I miss the fun we used to have and the laughs we shared. And I can't help but wonder what would've happened to us if it hadn't happened. Would we still be together? Would we make it?"

"If it hadn't happened, Brian," Gabriella cried. "Would I love you like I love Troy?"

* * *

**Okay okay, I know (again) what you're going to say. Don't worry, you will get the conversation between Katie, Chris, and Gabriella in the last chapter as well as the convo between Troy and his birth mom. I left it out for a reason... we gotta keep something for the grand finale!!**


	8. Trust Conquers Fear

**I told you I was almost done with this!! Okay, so I wrote this over the course of two days NONSTOP so that I would finish it. I hope it went out with a bang like I wanted it to, after all this story had so much bang it would suck if the finale didn't have any, lol. Oh my gosh, I'm satisfied. I have to thank everyone who read this, of course, but most of all the people who reviewed. Thank you for taking the time out of your hectic schedules to type a teeny little response to this story. They're, as always, greatly appreciated and are of course what kept me going throughout this whole thing. I love you all, and don't stop writing!**

**Thank you once again. I do not own much, just the plot. Please enjoy and review the last chapter of "The Last Shot."  
**

* * *

The Last Shot

Chapter Eight: Trust Conquers Fear

Is it weird that you don't feel the pang of terror in your every move anymore?

The year's over now. You've survived the awful junior year in the school you were forced to after your tragedy. But for some reason, there is not an inch of fright in your body. Why is this? You used to be so panicked, so paranoid, so anal about your life. Everything had to be done a certain way. _That_ subject could never be brought up. Don't slam your locker door. Be nice to everyone and don't make any enemies. Never drop your textbooks on the floor for fear of that proverbial, high-pitched scream.

And most of all, don't trust anyone.

But now, everything's different. Here, in this high school in the new town you've moved to, everyone is friends with everyone. No one is left out. Jocks hang with brainiacs after class, cheerleaders hang all over skaters who love the attention, and thespians enjoy the company of their gothic friends every now and then. It's weird. Your old school never acted like this. If a brainiac tried to talk to a jock, he'd get punched in the face. Cheerleaders would _never_ talk to skaters, not even if their lives depended on it. And as for the thespians, they kept to themselves. They had their own clique, like a cult, really. Not just _anyone_ could join.

So why is it different here?

Why do you, clearly one of the smartest people in this school, think it's okay to hang out with your new friends? They're all a mix, really. A few drama kids, a few jocks, a few brainiacs. Why is that okay? Maybe you're just following the crowd. Maybe it's because since everyone is friends with everyone here, they know no one will hurt them in the way your ex-friend hurt you. Maybe all of these close-knit relationships make you feel safe, secure, at home. But maybe it's something else.

Maybe it's trust. And trust conquers fear.

* * *

"So Gabriella, what are you doing this summer?" Taylor McKessie asked casually as the girls filed out of the school, headed towards the courtyard where they would meet up with their own respective boyfriends. "Anything special?"

"Um, I don't think so. My Mom and I are pretty much just going to stay here. I want to get a job, you know? Start saving up for college," Gabriella Montez answered. "We may go back to New Hampshire for a little bit. Visit our old friends."

"Oh, that'll be nice," Taylor still didn't know much of the tragedy. Troy was the only one Gabriella told. "I'm sure you miss them."

Gabriella bit her lip. "Yeah. A lot."

"Tell me about them," Taylor smiled as they sat down on one of the provided benches in the courtyard. "Your friends, I mean."

Normally, this would cause Gabriella pain and she'd sob as she went through their personalities. But now, much stronger from gaining closure, she smiled at her friend and began. "Well Hailey is the typical girly girl. She loves fashion and is beautiful and blonde and has every guy falling at her feet. She thinks that last part isn't true, and if you ask her about it, she'll tell you no and say that every guy is falling at _my_ feet, but she'd be wrong. I've known Hailey since pre-school and we've been best friends ever since."

"Then there's Katie," Gabriella smiled, remembering the conversation she had with Chris and Katie all those weeks ago. "She's gorgeous. Tall and bubbly and fun, Katie just brightens up everyone's day. Katie, Hailey and I were like the Three Musketeers- well, that is, until we met our other best friend Jess in third grade. But anyway, the three of us did everything together. We went to movies, had a billion sleepovers, and told each other secrets. We were there for Katie when her parents got divorced, for Hailey when her mom got pregnant again, and for me when my dad died."

"Oh Gabriella," Taylor sympathized, hugging her friend. "I'm so sorry."

Gabriella nodded. "It's okay, I... I've had to deal with a lot of death in my life."

Taylor would never know how true that statement was.

"So then in third grade we met Jessica," She went on. "Jess was the biggest tomboy I've ever known. Katie, Hailey and I had to girl-ify her. Still, she plays every sport known to man and has the best team spirit wherever we go. She did love to dress up and go out to school dances when we were involved. That was the girly side of her. But Jess was just such a sweetheart and she really was the person I could go to for anything. If any of us had a problem, we went to see Jess, because she was such a great listener and a perfect best friend."

"And then there's Chris," Gabriella grinned. "Chris is Katie's boyfriend and man, does he love her. He will seriously do _anything _for her. He's just so funny and charismatic and charming... he always says the right thing and always knows what to do to make us laugh. We met Chris in seventh grade and he started going out with Katie in eighth. He's a great guy. Fun to be around. And well... those are my friends."

She didn't bother mentioning that half of them were dead. And she chuckled to herself as she realized she'd left out one very important person.

Brian.

"Wow," Taylor grinned. "They sound great. I'm sure you miss them like crazy."

"More than you know," Gabriella said quietly. "But I'm glad I have you guys. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Of course not," Sharpay Evans added, entering the conversation and sitting besides Gabriella. Ryan Evans and Kelsi Nielson were in tow. "What ever would you do without us, Gabriella?"

"Well I'm sure she could figure out what to do without _you_," Taylor glared at the blonde who scoffed. "But without her _real_ friends, she'd be lost."

Thinking only of Troy, Gabriella smiled and responded, "I certainly would be."

* * *

_2 Months Earlier_...

"God Katie. How? Why?" Gabriella sobbed, pulling away from her best friend's embrace. "It isn't fair."

"No, of course not," Katie cried, wiping at her tears and thanking Chris when he handed a box of Kleenex to her. "None of this is fair. Tommy shouldn't have done this, I shouldn't have to be this way... and you shouldn't have left us!"

"I'm sorry, Katie." Gabriella looked down at her hands in her lap.

"No, I understand why you did," She sighed. "I would too if I could."

"Do you guys want to go outside and talk?" Chris suggested. "It's pretty nice out today."

Katie nodded, not taking her eyes off Gabriella. "Good idea."

Troy and Gabriella retreated back down the stairs as Chris lifted Katie onto the bed, carted the wheelchair down and onto the patio outside and then carried Katie downstairs as well. He placed her on in the wheelchair upon arriving on the deck and kissed her head affectionately, making Gabriella's heart break into a million pieces. Chris devoted himself to Katie, even more now that she needed him the most. And she could see guilt all over Katie's face, knowing she'd never be able to repay him.

Gabriella sat down on a patio chair next to Troy with Katie and Chris opposite them. She realized just then that she hadn't introduced Troy to Katie and vice versa. In doing so, the guilt washed away from Katie's features and in turn was replaced by the glimmering sparkle that was always in her eyes. Gabriella recognized this sparkle as the same one Katie always got when she was curious, passionate and excited. This was the same glimmer of hope she had when Gabriella had told her Brian asked her out all those years ago. And she knew there was something more between her and her new friend Troy.

"So what's New Mexico like?" Katie inquired. "Bet it's dry."

"That it is," Gabriella giggled. "Dry, hot, and humid. It's a big desert, really. Nothing too exciting."

"At least you don't have any snow," Chris remarked. "I'm telling you, we had the worst winter here this year. Huge ice storm that knocked out the power for days."

It was small talk, Gabriella knew. But she wanted to talk about that awful day. And she knew that Chris and Katie did too.

Out of the blue, Katie thought aloud. "I wonder what it's like to die."

The three other teenagers in the room stared at her incredulously. She threw her hands up incredulously. "What? You don't?"

Troy shook his head no, but Gabriella and Chris reconsidered the statement. "Good point, Kate. I guess I kinda wonder too. Especially after watching my friends die."

"How did it happen, Gabby?" Katie asked, and Gabriella was painfully reminded that her mother was _not_ the only person that called her by this name. "With you, I mean. What happened?"

"We were in the computer lab, Brian, Jess, and I, typing up the Shakespeare report. Then there were all these bangs coming from the hallway. Jess and I started freaking out but Brian was trying to stay calm," Gabriella felt tears building and she gratefully took Troy's hand when he offered it to her. "We hid in a corner in the science fiction section of the library, but he found us of course. Brian tried to be tough and stand up for us. He tried to protect us from harm. He tried _so_ hard to change Tommy's mind. But in the end, it only took him under."

"He killed Brian first?" Katie swallowed hard, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. "My God. Then what happened?"

"Well he shot Brian in the stomach and he fell to the ground, already dead." Gabriella took a deep, shaky breath. "I didn't watch it happen, but I knew he was dead. There was no way he would survive that. Jess held onto me so tight I thought I was going to break in half. When she finally let go, I glanced up and found Tommy with the gun at my face. He told me to stop crying but of course I couldn't. Jess tried to distract him and ask him why he was doing this. She pleaded with him not to kill her but he just laughed. It was this dry, sarcastic kind of laugh and he told her he didn't like beggars. Then he shot her in the stomach."

"Sometimes people live from that." Chris pointed out hopefully, even though he knew the outcome of the story wasn't pleasant.

"Not Jess," Gabriella sobbed. "She screamed and clutched her stomach, falling down next to me. I couldn't look at her. I heard her heaving and coughing up blood before there was silence. I kept my eyes closed as Tommy cocked the gun again. I figured he was going to kill me too, so I just curled myself into a ball and prepared for the impact. But nothing happened. When I finally opened my eyes to look at him, he looked as if he were in deep thought. I asked him why he didn't just kill me already and he said because he only had one bullet left and wasn't sure if he wanted to kill me or himself."

"The sick bastard should've just killed himself," Chris seethed. "It's what he fucking deserves."

"Shh, Chris," Katie soothed, running a hand down his cheek for comfort. "He got his in the end."

"He told me this whole sob story about how his parents hated him and how he got beaten up nearly everyday and how Hailey _still _hated him." Gabriella sniffled. "And what in hell was I supposed to do about it? Sure I felt bad for him, but did that really justify him killing half the school? So then he decided he wanted to kill me, but only shot me in the arm. I went unconscious."

"God, that sounds awful," Katie sighed, wiping her tears. "Chris met with me after Biology was over and we went to the cafeteria for lunch. Hailey was there and she told us that she was so happy because Tommy was finally ignoring her, for once. Chris pointed out that he wasn't only ignoring her, he was ignoring everyone. It was a little eerie, but we just ignored it. We got our lunches and sat down to eat. That's when we heard the gun shots outside. The first one I assumed was just some kid who dropped a textbook, but after we heard screaming I knew it was something serious."

"Immediately a bunch of kids fled the scene," She went on. "The hid under tables, in corners, behind the doors. Tommy came in but it was clear he only wanted to get to Hailey, and Chris and I were stupid for thinking that's _all_ he wanted. He aimed the gun at Hailey and she cried and begged him not to do it. She told him that she was too young to die and that they both had their entire lives ahead of them; why ruin it? He just laughed- this bitter, awful laugh- and shot Hailey in the shoulder. Chris turned me away so I wouldn't have to watch, but just listening to the shot and her scream of terror was enough."

"After he shot her the first time," Chris went on, having been the witness of this horrific scene. "She was clutching her bloody wound and gasping in pain. 'You didn't kill me,' she said. 'I thought you were going to kill me.' He just looked at her for a while before leaning over and kissing her on the mouth. He kissed her for a long time and she didn't even push him away. After their kiss was over, he whispered, 'I am.' and shot her in the heart. That was it. She died with this terrible shocked look on her face and I guided Katie to a standing position as we tried to get away. I thought Tommy was preoccupied with Hailey, but I clearly was wrong."

"He was like, 'Hey, where the hell do you think you're going?'" Katie resumed. "When we turned around, he had the gun aimed at us. We tried getting away, of course, but he was faster than we were with that thing. He shot Chris in the leg immediately and he fell to the ground. I was so shocked and so scared that I didn't know what to do, but Chris told me to keep going. To get out and save myself. I tried, really, I did. But he shot me in the back and instantly I knew that we were going to die. Surprisingly, he didn't keep shooting till we were dead. He left while I laid there in searing agony. Chris managed to crawl over to where I was and told me to hold on. That help was coming and that I was going to be okay."

"I remember just wanting to cut my leg off, that's how badly it hurt," Chris recalled. "But I wanted to be strong, just for Katie. There was no way I was giving up. I told her that we could hobble out of the school and try to get help but she said... she said she couldn't move. That was the start of our problems."

"For some reason I didn't understand, my legs just wouldn't work." Katie cried. "I tried everything. Wiggling my toes, moving my legs and feet... nothing happened. So I just thought they were numb and they would come around but... they never did. I went into a coma that night at the hospital when they were trying to remove the bullet, and when I woke up two days later, they told me I was paralyzed."

"Oh my God," Gabriella whimpered. "That's so terrible. I can't believe this."

"Me either," Katie sighed, noticing the Kleenex box was now empty. "It sucks."

* * *

"Hey guys," Chad Danforth greeted the group, approaching the courtyard and his group of friends. "What are we talking about?"

"Hopefully not me," Troy Bolton grinned, sitting on the other side of Gabriella. "Not without my consent."

"God, Bolton, are you that conceited?" Sharpay replied. "Not every conversation revolves around you."

"Ah, shut up Evans," Troy urged. "You know some of them do."

The blonde frowned. "I know no such thing."

Kelsi giggled at their banter. "Actually, we were talking about what's going on this summer and what everyone's planning on doing. What are you doing, Troy?"

"Checking out colleges, I think," He responded. "But other than that, nothing much. Just hanging around, probably with you guys."

"What makes you think we want to hang out with you?" Gabriella teased. "You're the last one on my list, if that."

Troy just glanced at her in pure shock before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and glaring at Sharpay. "What have you done to her? My sweet, innocent Gabriella? You've corrupted her!"

Giggling uncontrollably, Gabriella pulled out of their embrace. "She has not. You know I was only kidding with you. Of course I'm up for another one of our adventures."

Troy eyed her. "You mean an _adventure_?"

Her eyes widened when she realized what he meant and shook her head wildly. "No, no, not that kind of adventure. A fun one, this time."

The rest of this group watched this exchange in confusion. What did they mean by adventure? Chad took this to mean a sexual innuendo and grinned. "What? The sex isn't good?"

Gabriella closed her eyes, her cheeks reddening. Troy frowned. "Chad, don't go there."

"You do know he hasn't even kissed me yet, right?" Gabriella added. "I don't know about you, but I'm not one to jump straight to sex."

"You haven't kissed her yet?" Taylor asked incredulously. "What's wrong with you, Bolton?"

"Well someone's always interrupting or... I don't know!" He looked seriously bothered by this concept. "I just need the right moment, okay?"

Gabriella laughed. "Relax. As long as you do it, I don't care when it happens."

Troy smiled. "What would I do without you?"

"One can only dream," Gabriella teased again.

Troy laughed along, but deep down inside, he knew his previous words were nothing but serious.

* * *

_2 Months Earlier_...

Jennifer Masterson's living room looked like a cut out from a Pottery Barn catalog. The floor was a dark hardwood, a deep mahogany in color, with a big white throw rug in the middle of the floor. A coffee table with a glass top sat in the middle of this throw rug, with two brown leather sofas on either side. Two occasional chairs- yes, brown leather- were on the end of the coffee table, aimed towards the big white fireplace and mantle where dozens of framed pictures rested. A flat screen television was just above the fireplace, waiting for someone to jumpstart it to life.

"Come in, come in," Jennifer welcomed the teens. "Make yourselves at home. I'll go get something for you to drink. Is lemonade okay? I just made it this morning."

Troy was still speechless, so Gabriella smiled and said, "Lemonade is great, thank you."

Grinning, Jennifer disappeared into the kitchen and Gabriella and Troy sat down upon one of the leather couches. While Gabriella glanced around the room curiously, Troy remained motionless. This was his _mother_, the real woman who gave birth to him. This was the house he could've grown up in if she hadn't given him up. This is, essentially, the life he would have had. This was all too real for him. This was nothing like he expected- it was so much more. Is this what it felt like to finally know who you were?

Jennifer returned with a tray filled with glasses and a pitcher of ice cold lemonade. She filled two glasses and set them on the coffee table for the teens. "Okay, where should I start?"

"At the beginning, I guess," Troy told her, snapping out of his reverie. "I don't know anything about my life."

"Well, I was fifteen," Jennifer began, and just recalling this made her eyes water. "I'm the youngest of six kids and I'm the only girl. My family is devout Christian and so of course they frown upon sex before marriage. There used to be seven kids. My oldest sister- the oldest of the seven, too- died when she was fourteen from some awful disease. My father now had five sons and one daughter, one "perfect little girl," he thought. But I was the rebel. I hated doing what parents told me and I hated being the perfect little Catholic girl. I got this thrill whenever I did something my parents told me not to."

She took a deep breath. "Anyway, I met Josh Kent when I was fourteen. He was a year older than me, a sophomore while I was still a freshman. We met at a mutual friend's birthday party and talked the whole night. The end of the night, I had a boyfriend. My parents were not thrilled, but they weren't disappointed. They could see that I was happy with him and that's all that mattered. Well Josh, during the summer before my sophomore year, wanted to take our relationship to the next level. Sex was something I wasn't really sure of. I mean, of course I knew how to do it and all, but it was like this foreign area that I'd never thought of, and I wasn't sure if I was ready or willing."

"But Josh decided that I was," Jennifer recited. "He promised to use protection and still swears to this day that he did. Somehow, though, a few months after we'd had sex the first time, I starting throwing up nonstop. I couldn't keep any food down, and yet I was gaining weight like crazy. My parents were so scared that I had the same disease that took my sister under and forced me to go to the hospital. They ran all these tests on me and all I could think of was how I could have an STD. Pregnancy never crossed my mind. But then they asked me if I could be pregnant. My mother and father upbraided the doctor, telling her that she was crazy and that I'd never even had sex before. But still, they made me take a pregnancy test."

"It was the worst two minutes of my life," Jennifer confessed. "I'll admit it. But when the results came back positive, I burst into tears. My mother was in shock and couldn't look at me. My dad was so upset. He just stared at me saying, "Jenny... my little Jenny... how could you?" It was the worst feeling in the world knowing I'd upset my parents. They didn't yell at me or scold me like I expected. What they did was worse. They just stopped speaking to me all together. I was in the first week of the third trimester before my parents came around. They were there for me, they really were. But they were so shocked and so upset that I knew they'd never look at me the same way again."

Gabriella snuck a glanced at Troy, but his expression was unreadable. Offering her hand for support, he snatched it and held on for dear life. "Abortion was never an option." Jennifer continued. "There was no way in a million years I could ever do that to you. No, I wasn't as religious as my parents, but still, I couldn't. And if I thought my parents were upset when they found out I was pregnant, they'd be distraught if I were to tell them I was getting an abortion. So no, that was something I just couldn't do. And I knew deep down in my heart that I couldn't raise this baby, no matter how much I wanted to. I loved you, I really and truly did. From the moment I first heard your heartbeat on the ultrasound screen to the day I gave birth, there was not a second I stopped loving you. And because of that, I knew I had to give you a better life."

"Adoption was the last answer," Jennifer smiled through her tear-filled eyes. "It was so overwhelming; there were so many prospective parents and so many wonderful couples just looking for a child to complete their home. I met with dozens upon dozens of families before meeting with Jack and Lucille Bolton. Something about them just struck me. I talked with Lucille for hours how the pregnancy was going and how she couldn't have children and how they both desperately wanted a child. Jack wanted a son to play basketball and carry on the family name, while Lucille wanted a daughter to dress up in pretty dresses and play tea party with. Their dreams matched my dreams for you, and I just knew they were the right choice."

"Then on October eighteenth, there you were," Jennifer sighed. "You were this perfect, tiny little baby boy. Josh and I sat in the hospital room holding you for hours. I knew eventually we'd have to let you go, but I just couldn't. You were perfect. We spent hours just holding you and talking to you, telling you we loved you over and over. The next morning Jack and Lucille came to visit and they both cried at the sight of you. I reluctantly handed you over so they could meet their perfect son. Jack was so happy and Lucille just couldn't even put her thoughts into words. I had to finish signing the adoption papers, and Lucille actually looked fearful that I might change my mind. And even though I wanted to keep you for myself, there was no way that I could take that kind of happiness away from Lucille and Jack. They were so ready to be parents. And I wasn't even sixteen."

"Each year after that we decided to celebrate your birthday," Jennifer told Troy, taking a moment to sip at her own lemonade. "We'd agreed on a closed adoption, however, because I really did want you to have a normal life. I graduated high school and went off to college, got my degree in biochemistry like I wanted and became a pediatrician. A few years after college, I met up with Josh again. He told me how much he missed me and that he wanted to get back together. We ended up getting married, thinking our high school love for each other was still there. We had moved into this house and had three kids. But with each of them, Josh fell more and more apart."

"Our first child- well, second really- was a boy we named Jason," Jennifer grinned as she spoke of her children. "Jason is yet another perfect baby boy just like yourself. I guess he reminded Josh way too much of you. Our next two children, two daughters named Molly and Lindsay came along and Josh just really pulled away from us. When Jason was four, Molly was two and Lindsay was one, Josh decided he didn't want to be with us anymore. We got a divorce and to this day, I still don't know why. I did love him very much and I'm not sure why he felt he needed to get away."

Pondering over this for a moment, Jennifer shook her head, a cheery smile gracing her features. "But that was eight years ago. Now I'm trying to deal with a twelve-year-old, a ten-year-old, and a nine-year-old by myself and still hold down my job. But not a day goes by that I don't think of you, Troy. And I haven't told my children about you yet, but when they get a little bit older, they'll know of you too."

It was so much for Troy to take in, and he was still gripping Gabriella's hand like a vice. While he was silent, processing this information, Gabriella spoke for him. "Thank you very much, Jennifer. It must be hard for you to relive that."

"Oh it is," Jennifer confirmed. "But I think it's worth it. I've always wondered how you turned out, Troy. They raised you well."

Troy smiled. "Thanks. And thanks for letting us come into your house and telling me this story. I've always wondered who you were."

"Oh you're welcome, Troy," Jennifer smiled, standing to hug the boy. "Please, visit anytime."

"I'll try," Troy promised. "I really will."

He and Gabriella left the house, but not before bumping into a middle aged man on Jennifer's sidewalk. The man stared at Troy for a long time before turning away and walking up to the front door of the house. Troy and Gabriella shared a glance before heading to her mother's car. The man knocked twice on the door and greeted Jennifer when she opened it. Stepping into the house, he tried desperately to figure out where he'd seen that teenage boy before. Then it hit him. When Jennifer returned with the three children, the man sighed.

"Was that...?"

"Yes Josh," Jennifer said. "It was your son."

* * *

"So do you guys want to go get something to eat?" Chad suggested, standing and casually draping an arm around Taylor's shoulders.

"Sure, where do you want to go?" Ryan answered him, threading his fingers with those of Kelsi Nielson. "I think Arizona Pizza finally opened."

"Really?" Taylor remarked in surprise. "That place has been under construction for months!"

"I've been dying to try it," Kelsi stated. "Let's go!"

They walked to their respective cars, chatting along with one another. Troy turned to Gabriella. "Another year gone."

"This one not as traumatic as the previous one," Gabriella said. "One that doesn't end with me going to therapy."

"I'm proud of you, though," Troy admired. "You really pulled through. Remember you were a jumpy paranoid thing at the beginning of the year?"

Gabriella closed her eyes. "Mm, yeah. Don't like to think about that. Reminds me of Tommy."

"Ah, see?" Troy pointed out. "You can even say his name now without breaking into tears."

"I think it's because I feel secure now," Gabriella decided. "I trust you guys."

"You trust us, huh?" Troy said, taking that moment to wrap his arms around her waist and sprint towards the car, Gabriella slung over his shoulder.

Giggling the whole way, Gabriella could barely breathe when he set her down. "I trust you."

Troy smiled, adoration filling his eyes. "Me too."

The group gathered around the coupling, awing at the sight. Troy pinned Gabriella against the car and grinned, before whispering, "This is the last shot."

"The last shot for what?" Gabriella asked in confusion.

But she never did get her answer for that question, because instead of answering her with words, Troy Bolton did it with a kiss.

And with that, all her fears went out the window. Because she trusted him. And trust conquers fear.

-The End-


End file.
